










f ibvavy of (^mpt^^. 






UNrrED STATES OF AMERICA. 









VOLUMES UNIFORM WITH 

LIGHT AT EVENTIDE. 



BY THE SAME EDITOR. 



CHIMES FOR CHILDHOOD. 

A Collection of Songs for Little Folks ; with twenty 
Illustrations by MiLLAis, Birket Foster, and others. 
Cheap edition, 75 cts. ; fine edition, on tinted paper, 
cloth, bevelled edges, $1.50; full gilt, $2.00. 



ECHOES FROM HOME. 

/ 

A Collection of Songs, Ballads, and other Home Poetry. 
Illustrated l/j Hammatt Billings. With Rubricated 
titles and ^half titles. Tinted paper, bevelled edges. 
Gilt side, $1.50; full gilt, $2.00. 

" One of the most perfect gems ever published." — Buffalo Post. 

" One of the bes^ collections of American songs and ballads ever pub- 
lished." — A il^a^LEvenh/g Post. 

" It is a recherche, affair, containing the jewels of our lyric literature." — 
A Ibatiy Journal. ' 



..^^^^-^ 




A COMPILATION OF CHOICE 



RELIGIOUS HYMNS AND POEMS. 



BY THE EDITOR OF 



h(lK\tX^^ChXjU'^ 



CHIMES FOR CHILDHOOD," "ECHOES 
FROM HOME." ETC. 




/ 

BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS 

NEW YORK: 

LEE, SHEPARD AND DILLINGHAM. 






Entered, according lo Acl ul' Congress, in tlie year 1S70, 

By DANA ESTES, 

In the O.uce ol" die Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



Stereotyped at the Boston Stereotype Foundry, 
No. 19 Spring Lane. 



I Dedicate this Volume 



MRS. DANIEL WILLIAMS, 

WHO BY HER ADVICE AND COUNSEL IN GREAT MEASURE 

SUPPLIED THE PLACE OF MOTHER TO ME, WHILE 

ABSENT FROM HOME, AND SURROUNDED 

BY THE TEMPTATIONS TO WHICH 

YOUTH ARE SUBJECT. 

MAY THE EVENTIDE OF THEIR LIVES BE ILLUMINED 

BY THE LIGHT OF HiS COUNTENANCE 

WHO ALONE GIVETH PEACE. 



PREFACE. 



THE favor with -which "Chimes for Childhood" 
and "Echoes from Home" were received by 
the public and the press of tlie country, has induced 
the editor to add another vohime to the series, hoping 
thereby to make the set a welcome guest at any fireside 
to which it finds its way. The editor has conscien- 
tiously endeavored to bring into the series something 
of interest and profit to all the members of the family, 
from the youngest to the oldest; and he hopes that the 
volume here ofiered may be of some use to those in the 
"eventide of life," by directing their thoughts to Him 
who is the " Light of life." 

He would acknowledge his indebtedness to those who 
have allowed him to insert copyright pieces; and would 
state that where pieces have been selected from newspa- 
pers and magazines, in some cases he has been unable 

to find the names of the authors. 

Dana Estes. 

Dorchester, 1870. 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Light at Eventide. . . Louise Reid Estes. . . 14 

The River Path. . . . J. G. Whiitier. ... 15 

Only Waiting 17 

Evening Light TV. B. O. Peahody. . . 19 

Bringing our Sheaves 

with us Hymns of the Ages. . . 20 

Stars of the Night. . . William Aruot. ... 22 

I love Thee, O my God. Si. Francis Xavier. . 23 

Light through the Mist. /. (7. Kiiox 24 

Eventide Light. . . • J- R- Macduff, D. D. . 26 
Jesu! the very Thought 

of Thee Bernard of Clairvaux. 27 

Evening Hymn John Kcble. . . . .28 

The Changed Cross 29 

Per Pacem ad Lucem. . Adelaide A. Proctor. . t^t^ 
After Chastening com- 

eth Rest Louise Reid Estes. . . 35 

The Pride of Life 36 

Abide with INIe Henry Francis Lyte. . 40 

Never, Never J- P- Macduff, D. D. . 42 

Kneeling at the Thresh- 
old. . Dr. Thomas Guthrie. . 43 

Nearer, my God, to Tiiee. Sarah F. Adams. . . 45 

Peccator ad Christum. . Brydges 46 

Labor and Rest. . . . Airs. D. Mulock Craik. 47 

Christ at Emmaus 48 

Modesty of Love. . . . John I\eble 49 

At Eventide Gerald Massey. ... 52 

Hymn for Night. . . . A. L. O. E 54 

Day by Day Mrs. D. Mulock Craik. ^^ 

Even Me 56 

Gethsemane Bishop Thos. ICingo. . 58 

Patience A. W. T. 60 

One by One Adelaide A. Proctor. . 61 

Called before Louise Reid Estes. . . 63 

(9) 



TO CONTENTS 



INIy Soul doth wait. . . Christian Lyrics. . . 64 
Never hasting, never 

RESTING 66 

Evening yo/iu Masoti Ncale. . . 68 

Is THIS ALL Bonar 69 

Reconciled Phoebe Cary. .... 71 

AlLjAll IS KNOWN TO Thee. Adelaide L. Ncxvton. . 73 

Comfort by the Way 75 

Sweet is the Solace. . Miss A. L. Waring. . 76 

Come unto Me Stephen the Sabaite. . 78 

The Lifting of the Veil .80 

Sunday George Herbert. ... 82 

The Way is dark, my 

Father H. N. C 85 

Nothing but Leaves ■ .... 88 

Cometh Sunshine after 

Rain Paul Gerhardt. ... 89 

God is Love 91 

Near Shore Liccy Larcom. ... 92 

Come, Jesus, with the 

coming Night. ..... Ray Palmer 95 

Beyond these Chilling 

Winds N. A. W. Priest. . . 96 

Thankfulness Adelaide A. Proctor. . 97 

The Shadow of the Rock. Faber 99 

He giveth His Beloved 

Sleep Mrs. E. B. Browning. 102 

Thy Way, not mine. . . H. Bonar 104 

The Good Shepherd. . . W. E. Littlcrvood. . . 105 

Adoration Madame Guyon. . . . 106 

Christ the Refuge. . . S. F. Smith 107 

Christus Consolator. . Francis T. Palgrave. . 109 

The Guiding Hand. no 

A Present Help. . . . John G. Whit tier. . .111 

Vesper Hymn Samuel Longf ell ozv. . 112 

Land of Beauty 113 

The Way is long and 

dreary Adelaide A. Proctor. . 115 

The Lot of Life. . . . Dean Al/ord it6 



CONTENTS. II 



The Undiscovered Coun- 
try EcJmund C. Stedman. . 117 

Midnight Hymn 118 

Thy Will be done. . . Charlotte Elliott. . .120 
Take up thy Cross. . . F. R. Wliitoii. . . . 121 
In the Cross of Christ 

I glory //. Bonar 123 

Breast the Wave, Chris- 
tian 124 

Knocking, ever knocking H. Bcecher Stoxve. . .125 

Midnight Worship. . . Ray Palmer 127 

The Day of Rest. . . . Louise Reid Estes. . . 130 
The Delectable Moun- 
tains II. L. L. 132 

God is Love 134 

The Unseen Friend. . . Charlotte Elliott. . . 135 
Christ ever near. . . . O. IV. Holmes. . . . 137 

Jesus, my All J^- R- Macduff, D. D. . 138 

Leaning on Thee 139 

The Secret H. B. Statue 141 

I AM His, and He is mine. Henry Francis Lyte. . 142 
Incompleteness Adelaide A. Proctor. . 144 

I AM NOW ready to BE 

offered. . . . . . . S. F. Smith 145 

Leave me not nov/ 148 

Trust Isaac Williams. . . . 149 

Jesus my Lord 150 

Not as I will, .but as 

Thou wilt Fader 151 

My Strength and my 

Heart faileth 153 

Friend of All Charles Wesley. . . . 154 

Out of the Depths. . . 'Jane Borthxvick. . . 156 
My Times are in Thy 

Hand A. L. Waring. . . . 159 

In the other World. . H. Beecher Stowe. . .161 

Marah Charles Eatvrence Ford. i6t, 

He leads us on 165 

The Everl \ sting Memo- 
rial H Bonar 166 



12 CONTENTS 



The Hour of Joy. . . . Ray Palmer 169 

The Heart's Song. . . A. C. Coxe, D. D. . . 171 
The' Eventide is past. . J. R. Macduff, D.D. . 172 

Weariness and Rest 173 

Jesus, Lover of my Soul. Charles Wesley. . . . 175 
Vexilla Regis. .... Ve?ia/itius Fortunattts. . 176 
Stab AT Mater Dolorosa. Jacobus de Beiiedictis. . 177 
Jesu Dulcis Memoria, . Bernard of Clairvaux. 179 
Longings for Love Divine Charles Wesley, . . . 180 
Jesus, meek and gentle. Rev. George R.Prynne. 182 

Saviour, blessed Saviour 183 

Lead Thou me 1S6 

At Eve it shall be Light. Bernard Barton. . . 187 
When gathering Clouds. Sir Robert Grant. . . 188 
Still WITH Thee. . . . Harriet Beecher Starve. 189 

Memories 191 

He knoweth all 194 

Rest 195 

Come to Me. ..... Charlotte Elliott. . . 197 

Resting WHOLLY ON Christ. //. ^o/^ar 198 

The Voice of Jesus. . . //. Bonar 200 

Submission 201 

The Cross E. Whitfield. . . . .203 

God knows it all 205 

Under the Cloud. .' . . Caroline A. Mason. . . 207 

Sunset Cynthia Henshaw. . . 208 

Come unto Me //. McEzuen Kimball. . 210 

O Lord! Thou knowest 212 

The Eleventh Hour 214 

Alone, yet not alone 216 

We stood beside the 

River 218 

Onward 221 

Heaven 223 

Strength according to 

THY Day 225 

A little While. . . . Greville 226 

Song of the Silent Land. Von Sails 227 

The New Jerusalem. . . Saint Gregory. . . . 228 
Eventide Prayer 233 



LIGHT AT EVENTIDE 



LIGHT AT EVENTIDE. 



WiiEX our aged sight is fading, 

As from sky the light of day, 
Comes the fear that, blindly groping 

In the dark, we lose our way. 

But when outward sight fast fails us, 
Light of faith shall brightest glow, 

And the soul that, sees the Father 
Never more shall darkness know; 

Never darkness, never doubting, 
As we near the promised land; 

Never fear lest we shall stumble 
While lie holds us by the hand; 

Only peaceful, quiet waiting 

For the rest in heavenly place, 
And to see with sight perfected 
Glory of the Father's face. 

Louise Re id Estes. 
(H) 




THE RIVER PATH 



--t-GHAJ*^- 



N 



O bird-song floated down the hill ; 
The tan cried bank below was still 



No rustle from the birchen stem, 
No ripple from the water's hem. 

The dusk of twilight round us grew ; 
We felt the falling of the dew ; 

For, from us, ere the day was done, 
The wooded hills shut out the sun. 



But on the river's farther side, 
We saw the hill-tops glorified, — 

A tender glow, exceeding fair, 
A dream of day without its glare. 

With us the damp, the chill, the gloom: 
With them the sunset's rosy bloom ; 
(15) 



l6 THE RIVER PATH. 

While dark, through willowy vistas seen, 
The river rolled in shade between. 

From out the darkness where we trod, 
We gazed upon those hills of God, 

Whose light seemed not of moon, or sun. 
We spake not, but our thought was one. 

We paused, as if from that bright shore 
Beckoned our dear ones gone before ; 

And stilled our beating hearts to hear 
The voices lost to mortal ear ! 

Sudden our pathway turned from night ; 
The hills swung open to the light ; 

Through their green gates the sunshine 

showed, 
A long, slant splendor downward flowed. 

Down glade and glen and bank it rolled ; 
It bridged the shaded stream with gold ; 

And, borne on piers of mist, allied 
The shadowy with the sunlit side ! 

"So," prayed we, "when our feet draw near 
The river, dark with mortal fear. 



ONLY WAITING. 17 

"And the night cometh chill with dew, 
O Father ! let thy light break through ! 

" So let the hills of doubt divide, 

So bridge with faith the sunless tide ! 

" So let the eyes that fail on earth 
On thy eternal hills look forth ! 

"And in thy beckoning angels know 
The dear ones whom we loved below ! " 

J. G. Whitiier, 

ONLY WAITING.* 



ONLY waiting till the shadows 
Are a little longer grown ; 
Only waiting till the glimmer 

Of the day's last beam is flown ; 
Till the night of earth is faded 

From the heart once full of day ; 
Till the stars .of heaven are breaking 
Through the twilight soft and gray. 

* A very aged Christian, who was so poor as to be in 
an almshouse, was asked what he was doing now. He 
replied, '■'•Ofily -waiting.'"'' 
2 



l8 ONLY WAITING. 

Only waiting till the reapers 

Have the last sheaf gathered home ; 
For the summer time is faded, 

And the autumn winds have come. 
Quickly, reapers, gather quickly 

The last ripe hours of my heart, 
For the bloom of life is withered. 

And I hasten to depart. 

Only waiting till the angels 

Open wide the mystic gate, 
At whose foot I long have lingered, 

Weary, poor, and desolate. 
Even now I hear the footsteps, 

And their voices, far away ; 
If they call me, I am waiting. 

Only waiting to obey; 

Only waiting till the shadows 

Are a little longer grown ; 
Only waiting till the glimmer 

Of the day's last beam is flown ; 
Then from out the gathered darkness 

Holy, deathless stars shall rise. 
By whose light my soul shall gladly 

Tread its pathway to tRe skies. 



EVENING LIGHT. 

BEHOLD the western evening light ! 
It melts in deepening gloom ; 
So calmly Christians sink away, 
Descending to the tomb. 

The winds breathe low ; the withering leaf 
Scarce whispers from the tree ; 

So gently flows the parting breath 
W^hen p:ood men cease to be. 

How beautiful on all the hills 

The crimson light is shed ! 
'Tis like the peace the Christian gives 

To mourners round his bed. 

How mildly on the wandering cloud 

The sunset beam is cast ! 
'Tis like the memory left behind 

When loved ones breathe their last. 

And now above the dews of night 

The vesper-star appears : 
So faith springs in the heart of those 

Whose eyes are bathed in tears. 

(19) 



20 BRINGING OUR SHEAVES WITH US. 
— ^.-if^r^^-^ — 

But soon the morning's happier light 

Its glory shall restore, 
And eyelids that are sealed in death 

Shall wake to close no more. 

W. B. O. Peabody. 
— M5^ — 

BRINGING OUR SHEAVES WITH US. 



THE time for toil is past, and night is 
come, — 
The last and saddest of the harvest eves ; 
Worn out v^ath labor long and wearisome, 
Drooping and faint, the reapers hasten home, 
Each laden with his sheaves. 

Last of the laborers, Thy feet I gain. 

Lord of the harvest ! and my spirit grieves 
That I am burdened, not so much with grain, 
As with a heaviness of heart and brain ; — 
Master, behold my sheaves ! 

Few, light, and worthless — yet their trifling 
weight 
Through all my frame a weary aching 
leaves ; 
For long I struggled with my hapless fate. 
And staid and toiled till it was dark and late — 
Yet these are all my sheaves ! 



BRINGING OUR SHEAVES WITH US. 21 

Full well I know I have more tares than 
wheat — 
Brambles and flowers, dry stalks, and 
withered leaves ; 
Wherefore I blush and weep, as at Thy feet 
I kneel down reverently, and repeat, 
" Master, behold my sheaves ! " 

I know these blossoms, clustering heavily 

With evening dew upon their folded leaves, 
Can claim no value nor utility, — 
Therefore shall fragranc}^ and beauty be 
The glory of my sheaves. 

So do I gather strength and hope anew ; 

For well I know thy patient love perceives 
Not what I did, but what I strove to do — 
And though the full, ripe ears be sadly few. 

Thou wilt accept my sheaves. 

Hyjnns of the Ages. 




STARS OF THE NIGHT 



WHEN I behold the stars of night 
That stud the sk}^ with golden light, 
Serene delight from heaven distils, 
And peace divine my bosom fills. 

And when their loving eyes meet mine, 
I fain would rise to where they shine. 
Behold their glory face to face, 
And run with them 'their nightly race. 

The moon, a beauteous silver boat. 
On seas celestial seems to float ; 
While marshalled hosts their order keep 
To waft her through the silent deep. 

Like watchmen, marching to and fro. 
Around the world they gladly go ; 
To souls distressed a comfort given, 
To hopeful hearts a type of heaven. 

But farewell now, ye stars of night. 
In watch so true, in sheen so bright; 
While 3'ou aloft your vigils keep 
I softly close my eyes in sleep. 

William Ar7iot. 

(22) 




I LOVE THEE, O MY GOD! 



I LOVE Thee, O my God ! but not 
For what I hope thereby ; 
Nor yet because who love Thee not 

Must die eternally. 
I love Thee, O my God ! and still 

I ever will love Thee, 
Solely because, my God, Thou art 
Who first hast loved me ! 



For me, to lowest depths of woe 

Thou didst Thyself abase ; 
For me didst bear the cross, the shame, 

And manifold disgrace ; 
For me didst suffer pains unknown, 

Blood-sweat and agony. 
Yea, death itself — all, all for me! 

For me. Thine enemy ! 
(23) 



24 



LIGHT THROUGH THE MIST. 

Then shall I not, O Saviour mine ! , 

Shall I not love Thee well? 
Not with the hope of winning heaven, 

Nor of escaping hell ; 
Not with the -hope of earning aught, 

Nor seeking a reward ; 
But freely, fully, as Thyself 

Hast loved me, O Lord ! 

So would I love Thee, dearest Lord, 
And in Thy praise will sing ; 

Solely because Thou art my God, 
And my eternal King. 

St. Francis Xavier. 



LIGHT THROUGH THE MIST 



NO sunset closed the dim gray day ; 
The mist swept upward from the sea, 
And shrouded all things drearily ; 
The light died down without a ray. 
And the night mingled with the mist. 
And there was darkness ere we wist. 



LIGHT THROUGH THE MIST. 25 

And, as we went upon our way, 
We could not see each other's tace ; 
The homeward path we could not trace, 
Though straight before our feet it lay ; 
It seemed (things loomed so strange and 

vast) 
An unknown land through which we 
passed. 

Still, step by step, we homeward drew. 
And though I could not see Thy smile, 
Yet beaming down on me the while, 

Thy tender smile was there I knew. 
And in the light of home anon, 
Into my gladdened heart it shone. 

Even so the mists of fear and doubt 
Come sweeping upward from the sea 
Of fathomless eternity. 

Blotting earth's fairest features out. 

And deepening with their blinding breath 
The darkness of the night of death. 

Yet, when the awful shadows loom. 
When fades the Saviour's face of love. 
When from our Father's house above 

No home lights lead us through the gloom. 
Still, step by step, in faith we fare; 
The light we see not still is there. 

/. C. Knox. 




E 



EVENTIDE LIGHT. 



ARTH'S day is neither dark nor bright — 
Now shining sun, now lowering sky ; ' 
But on the promise I rely^ 
" At evening-time it shall be light." 

When cherished stars are lost from sight, 
How can I read amid the gloom 
Which hovers darkly o'er the tomb, 

" At evening-time it shall be light ! " 

Yes ! for, methinks, I seem by night 
To hear sweet music from afar, 
Floating- — as if, from vanished star — 

" At evening-time it shall be light ! " 

And when dull faith is changed to sight, 
When " dark " and " light " their conflict 

cease. 
Then shall I hiow these words of peace, 

" At evening-time it shall be light ! " 

y. R. Macduff, D. D. 

C26) 



JESU! THE VERY THOUGHT OF 
THEE. 

— «<s^- — 

JESU ! the very thought of Thee 
With sweetness fills my breast ; 
But sweeter far Thy face to see, 
And in Thy presence rest. 

No voice can sing, no heart can frame, 

Nor can the memory find, 
A sweeter sound than Thy blest name, 

O Saviour of mankind ! 

O hope of every contrite heart, 

O joy of all the meek. 
To those who fall how kind Thou art ! 

How good to those who seek ! 

But what to those who find ? Ah ! this, 
Nor tongue nor pen can show : 

The love of Jesus, what it is, 
None but His loved ones know. 

Jesus I our only joy be Thou, 

As Thou our prize wilt be ; 
Jesus ! be Thou our glory now. 

And through eternity. 

Bct'fiard of Clair-caux. 
Trans, by Rev. E. Caszuall. 

(27) 



EVENING HYMN. 



SUN of my soul ! Thou Saviour dear, 
It is not night if Thou be near ; 
O ! may no earth-born cloud arise 
To hide Thee from Thy servanfs eyes. 

When the soft dews of kindly sleep 
My wearied eyelids gently steep, 
Be my last thought, how sweet to rest 
Forever on my Saviour's breast. 

Abide with me from morn till eve, 
For without Thee I cannot live ; 
Abide with me when night is nigh. 
For without Thee I dare not die. 

If some poor w^andering child of Thine 
Have spurned, to-day, the voice divine^ 
Now, Lord, the gracious work begin ; 
Let him no more lie down in sin. 

Watch by the sick, enrich the poor 
With blessings from Thy boundless store ; 
Be every mourner's sleep to-night. 
Like infant's slumbers, pure and light. 
(28) 



THE CHANGED CROSS. 2 J 

Come near and bless us when we wake, 
Ere through the world our way we take, 
Till in the ocean of Thy love 
We lose ourselves in heaven above. 

yohn Keblc. 

— Nc^^ai&^^^jH — 
THE CHANGED CROSS. 



IT was a time of sadness, and my heart, 
Although it knew and loved the better 
part. 
Felt w^earied with the conflict and the strife. 
And all the needful discipline of life. 

And while I thought on these, as given to 

me — 
My trial tests of faith and love to be — 
It seemed as if I never could be sure 
That faithful to the end I should endure. 

And thus, no longer trusting to His might 
Who says, "We walk by faiih, and not by 

sight." 
Doubting, and almost yielding to despair. 
The thought arose — My cross I cannot bear : 



30 THE CHANGED CROSS. 

Far heavier its weight must surely be 
Than those of others which I daily see. 
O ! if I might another burden choose, 
Methinks I should not fear my crown to lose. 

A solemn silence reigned on all around — 
E'en Nature's voices uttered not a sound ; 
The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell, 
.And sleep upon my weary spirit fell. 

A moment's pause — and then a heavenly 

light 
Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured 

sight, 
Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere, 
And angels' music thrilled the balmy air. 

Then One, more fair than all the rest to see — 
One to whom all the others bowed the knee — 
Came gently to me as I trembling lay, 
And, "Follow me!" He said; "I am the 
Way." 

Then, speaking thus, He led me far above. 
And there, beneath a canopy of love. 
Crosses of divers shape and size were seen. 
Larger and smaller than my own had been. 

And one there was, most beauteous to behold, 
A little one, with jewels set in' gold. 



THE CHANGED CROSS. 31 

x\h ! this, methought, I can with comfort 

wear, 
For it will be an easy one to bear : 

And so the little cross I quickly took ; 
But, all at once, my frame beneath it shook. 
The sparkling jewels fair w^ere they to scc^ 
But far too heavy was their weight for me. 

" This may not be," I cried, and looked again, 
To see if there was any here could ease my 

pain ; 
But, one by one, I passed them slowly by, 
Till on a lovely one I cast my eye. 

Fair flowers around its sculptured form en- 
twined. 

And grace and beauty seemed in it combined. 

Wondering, I gazed ; and still I wondered 
more 

To think so many should have passed it o'er. 

But O ! that form so beautiful to see 

Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me ; 

Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colors 

fair ! 
Sorrowing, I said : " This cross I may not 

bear." 

And so it was w^ith each and all around — 
Not one to suit my need could there be found ; 



32 THE CHANGED CROSS. 

Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down, 
As my Guide gently said: "No cross, no 
crown ! " 

At length, to Him I raised my saddened 

heart : 
He knew its sorrows, bid its doubts depart. 
"Be not afraid," He said, "but trust m me — 
My perfect love shall now be shown to thee." 

And then, with lightened eyes and willing 

feet, 
Again I turned, my earthly cross to meet. 
With forward footsteps, turning not aside. 
For fear some hidden evil might betide ; 

And there — in the prepared, appointed way, 
Listening to hear, and ready to obe}^ — 
A cross I quickly found of plainest form. 
With only words of love inscribed thereon. 

With thankfulness I raised it from the rest, 
And joyfull}^ acknowledged it the best — 
The only one of all the many there 
That I could feel was good for me to bear. 

And, while I thus my chosen one confessed, 
I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest ; 
And, as I bent, my burden to sustain, 
I recognized my own old cross again. 



PE.R PACEM AD LUC EM. 33 

But O ! how diflerent did It seem to be 
Now I had learned its preciousness to see I 
No longer could I unbelieving say, 
Perhaps another is a better way. 

Ah, no ! henceforth my own desire shall be, 
That He who knows me best should choose 

for me ; 
And so, whate'er His love sees good to send, 
I'll trust it's best, because He knows the end. 

PER PACEM AD LUCEM. 



I DO not ask, O Lord ! that life may be 
A pleasant road ; 
I do not ask that Thou wouldst take from me 

Aught of its load ; 
I do not ask that flowers should always spring 

Beneath my feet ; 
I know too well the poison and the sting 

Of things too sweet. 
For one thing only, Lord, dear Lord ! I plead : 

Lead me aright — 
Though strength should falter, and though 
heart should bleed — 

Through Peace to Light. 

3 



34 pe:R pacem ad lucem. 

I do not ask, O Lord ! that Thou shouldst 
shed 

Full radiance here ; 
Give but a ray of Peace, that I may tread 

Without a fear. 
I do not ask my cross to understand. 

My way to see, — 
Better in darkness just to feel Thy Hand, 

And follow Thee. 
Joy is like restless day, but Peace Divine 

Like quiet night. 
Lead me, O Lord ! till perfect Day shall 
shine. 

Through Peace to Light. 

Ad al aide A. Proctor. 





AFTER CHASTENING COMETH 
REST. 



ALL can remember dark gloomy days, 
When through the clouds ne'er pierced 
the sun's rays 
Until the hours of day were far spent ; 
When it in glory behind the hills went. 

All see around the dark dreary life 

Of souls who toil 'mid sorrow and strife, 

Whom God hath chastened, with troubles 

sore, 
Lives that with sadness seem brimming o'er. 

E'en till the hours of life are all spent, — 
Yet their dead faces beam with content : 
Lit up by glimpses of angels blest, — 
Alter the chastening cometh sweet rest. 

Loitisc Rcid Estcs. 



THE PRIDE OF LIFE 



~-C-G^«r^I - 



OWHY should the spirit of mortal be 
proud ? 
Like a fast-flitting meteor, or fast-flying cloud, 
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave, 
He passeth from life to his rest in the grave. 

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall 

fade, 
Be scattered around and together be laid ; 
And the young and the old, and the low and 

the high. 
Shall moulder to dust and together shall lie. 

The child whom a mother attended and loved ; 
The mother that infant's affection who proved ; 
The husband that mother and infant who blest. 
Each, all, are away to their dwelling of rest. 

The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, 

on whose eye. 
Shone beauty and pleasure — her triumphs 

are by ; 
And the memory of those who loved her and 

praised, 
Are alike from the mind of the living erased. 
(36) 



THE PRIDE. OF LIFE. 37 

The hand of the king who the sceptre hath 

borne, 
The brow of the priest who the mitre hath 

worn, 
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the 

brave, 
Are hidden and lost in the depth of the grave. 

The peasant, w'hose lot was to sow and to 

reap ; 
The herdsman, w^ho climbed with his goats 

to the steep ; 
The beggar, who wandered in search of his 

bread, 
Have faded away like the grass that we 

tread. 

The saint, who enjoyed the communion of 

heaven. 
The sinner, who dared to remain unforgiven. 
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and 

just. 
Have quietly mingled their bones in the 

dust. 

So the multitude goes, like the flower and the 

weed. 
That wither away to let others succeed ; 
So the multitude comes, even these we behold, 
To repeat every tale that has often been told. 



33 THE PRIDE OF LIFE. 

For we are the same that our fathers have 

been : 
We see the same sights that our fathers have 

seen, — 
"We drink the same stream, we feel the same 

sun. 
And we run the same course that our fathers 

have run. 

The thoughts we are thinking our fathers 

would think ; 
From the death we are shrinking they too 

would shrink ; 
To the life we are clinging they too would 

chng ; 
But it speeds from the earth like a bird on 

the wing. 

They loved, but their story we cannot unfold ; 
They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is 

cold ; 
They grieved, but no wail from their slumber 

may come ; 
They joyed, but the voice of their gladness is 

dumb. 

They died ! a}^ they died ! and we things 

tliat are now. 
Who walk on the turf that lies over their 

brow. 



THE PRIDE OF LIFE. 39 

Who make in their dwelHncrs a transient 
abode, 

Meet the changes they met on their pilgrim- 
age road. 

Yea, hope and despondence, and pleasure 

and pain, 
Are mingled together in sunshine and rain ; 
And the smile and the tear, and the song 

and dirge. 
Shall follow each other, like surge upon 

surge. 

'Tis the wink of an eye, 'tis the draught of a 

breath. 
From the blossom of health to the paleness of 

death, 
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the 

shroud, 
O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud ! 





ABIDE WITH ME 



ABIDE with me ! Fast falls the evxn- 
tide ; 
The darkness deepens : Lord, with me abide ! 
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee, 
Help of the helpless, O, abide with me ! 

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day ; 
Earth's joys grow dim, its glories pass away ; 
Change and decay in all around I see ; 
O Thou who changest not, abide with me ! 

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word, 
But as Thou dwelt with Thy disciples, Lord, 
Familiar, condescending, patient, free, 
Come, not to sojourn, but abide with me ! 

Come not in terrors as the King of kings. 
But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings ; 
Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea : 
Come, Friend of sinners, and thus bide with 
me ! 

(40) 



ABIDE WITH ME. 41 

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile, 
And though rebellious and perverse mean- 
while, 
Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee. 
On to the close, O Lord, abide with me ! 

I need Thy presence every passing hour : 
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's 

power? 
Who like Thyself my guide and stay can be? 
Through cloud and sunshine, O, abide with 

me ! 

I fear no foe with Thee at hand to bless ; 
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness ; 
Where is Death's sting? where, Grave, thy 

Victory ? 
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me. 

Hold then Thy cross before my closing eyes. 
Shine through the gloom, and point me to the 

skies : 
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain 

shadows flee ; 
In life and death, O Lord, abide w^ith me ! 

Henry Francis Lyte. 




NEVER, NEVER 



E 



VENING shades fall fast around me ; 
Cherished ones no more surround me ; 

Gone forever ! — 

" I will never, 
Never leave Thee, nor forsake ! " 



Voices hushed that once spoke gladness ; 
Must I float in lonely sadness 

Down Time's river? 

" I will never. 
Never leave Thee, nor forsake ! " 



Earth's most treasured joj^s may perish 
From each gourd I fondly cherish, 

Death may sever — 

" I will never. 
Never leave Thee, nor forsake ! " 

y. R. Macduff, D. D. 
(42) 



KNEELING AT THE THRESHOLD. 



I'M kneeling at the threshold, weary, faint, 
and sore. 
Waiting for the dawning, for the opening of 

the door ; 
Waiting till the Master shall bid me rise and 

come. 
To the glory of His presence, to the gladness 
of His home ! 

A weary path I've travelled, 'mid darkness, 

storm, and strife. 
Bearing many a burden, struggling for my 

hfe ; 
But now the morn is breaking, my toil will 

soon be o'er ; 
I'm kneeling at the threshold, my hand is on 

the door ! 

Methinks I hear the voices of the blessed as 

the}^ stand. 
Singing in the sunshine in the far off sinless 

land : 

(43) 



44 



KNEELING AT THE THRESHOLD. 



O, would that I were with them, amid their 

shining throng, 
Minghng in their worship, joining in tlieir 



song ! 



The friends that started with me have entered 

long ago ; 
One by one they left me struggling with the 

foe ; 
Their pilgrimage was shorter, their triumph 

surer won. 
How lovingly they'll hail me when all my 

toil is done ! 

With them the blessed angels, that know no 

grief or sin, 
I see them by the portals, prepared to let 

me in ; 
O Lord, I wait Thy pleasure ; Thy time and 

way are best ; 
But I'm w^asted, worn, and weary ; O Father, 

bid me rest ! 

Dr. Thomas Guthrie. 



NEARER, MY GOD, TO THEE 



NEARER, my God, to Thee, 
Nearer to Thee ! 
E'en though it be a cross 

That raiseth me ; 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 
Nearer to Thee. 

Though like a wanderer, 

The sun gone down, 
Darkness comes over me. 

My rest a stone ; 
Yet in my dreams I'd be 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee. 

There let the way appear 

Steps up to heaven ; 
All that Thou sendest me 

In mercy given ; 
Angels to beckon me 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee. 
(45) 



46 PECCATOR AD CHRIS T UM. 



— o.i.o»-i-..*~*^^ 



Tlien with my waking thoughts, 

Bright with Th}- praise, 
Out of my stony griefs 

Bethels I'll raise ; 
So by my woes to be 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee ! 

And when, on joyful wing, 

Cleaving the sky. 
Sun, moon, and stars forgot. 

Upward I fly. 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to Thee, 

Nearer to Thee. 

Sarah F. Adams. 

PECCATOR AD CHRISTUM. 



M^'Tf: 



lonc^eth for Thee 
[well within my breast, 
Although I am unworthy 
Of so divine a Guest ! 



Of so divine a Guest, 
Unworthy though I be. 

Yet hath my heart no rest 
Until it come to Thee ! 



LABOR A N D R E S T . 47 

Until it come to Thee, 

In vain I look around ; 
In all that I can see, 

No rest is to be found ! 

No rest is to be found. 
But in thy bleeding love; 

O, let my wish be crowned. 
And send it from above ! 

Brydges. 



LABOR AND REST. 



" 'T'^WO hands upon the breast, 
JL And labor's done : 
Two pale feet crossed in rest — 

The race is won : 
Two eyes, with coin-weights shut, 

And all tears cease : 
Tv^'o lips, where grief is mute. 

And wrath at peace." 
So pray w^e oftentimes, mourning our lot 
God in his kindness answ^ereth not. 



48 CHRIST AT EMMAUS. 

" Two hands to work addrest 

Aye, for His praise : 
Two feet that never rest, 

Walking His ways : 
Two eyes that look above 

Still, through all tears : 
Two lips that breathe but love, 

Nevermore fears." 
So cry we afterwards, low on our knees 
Pardon those erring prayers ! Father, hear 
these ! 

Mrs. D. Mulock Craik. 



s^^^^i^^"^^^ 



CHRIST AT EMMAUS. 

SWEET was your converse by the way. 
Ye friends, and bright the Sabbath-day, 
When, to Emmaus journeying on, 
Ye met the Lord, though 3^et unknown. 

Too soon drew^ near the Sabbath eve. 
But still to Him ye fondly cleave. 
Till, in the stranger at 3'our board, 
YoLir eyes behold the risen Lord. 



JSI O D EST r OF L O VE . 49 

Far spent is now the Sabbath-day, 
The shadows lengthen on the way ; 
Draw near, O Lord, at eventide, 
And with me as my guest abide. 

lonesome is each way to me, 
If on that way I find not Thee, 

And dark the day that does not leave 
Some memories of Thy love at eve. 

1 know that Tliou might'st stand aloof, 
Nor deign to come beneath my roof, 
Yet Thou at prayer's appeal wilt turn 
And make my heart within me burn. 

Come to me, Lord, at eventide, 
Show me Thy pierced hands and side. 
Thy vision shine upon the night. 
And be with me till morning light. 

MODESTY OF LOVE. 



WHEN Nature tries her fi.iest touch 
Weaving her vernal wreath, 
Mark ye how close she veils her round, 
Not to be traced by sight or sound. 
Nor soiled by ruder breath? 

4 



50 MODESTY OF LOVE. 

Who ever saw the earliest rose 
First open her sweet breast? 
Or, when the summer sun goes down, 
The first soft star in evening's crown 
Light up her gleaming crest? 

Fondly we seek the dawning bloom 
On features wan and fair, — 

The gazing eye no change can trace, 

But look away a little space, 
Then turn, and, lo ! 'tis there. 

But there's a sweeter flower than e'er 

Blushed on the rosy spray — 
A brighter star, a richer bloom, 
Than e'er did western sky illume 
At close of summer day. 

'Tis Love, the last best gift of Heaven ; 

Love, gentle, holjs pure ; 
But tenderer than a dove's soft eye, 
The searching sun, the open sk^^ 

She never could endure. 

Even human love will shrink from sight 

Here in the coarse rude earth ; 
How then should rash, intruding glance 
Break in upon her sacred trance 
Who boasts a heavenly birth? 



MOD EST r OF LOVE. 51 



=^.^ 



So still and secret is her growth, 

Ever the truest heart, 
Where deepest strikes her kindly root 
For hope or joy, for flower or fruit, 

Least knows its happy part. 

God only, and good angels, look 

Behind the. blissful screen — 
As when, triumphant o'er His woes, 
The Son of God by moonlight rose, 
By all but heaven unseen : 

So. truest image of the Christ, 

Old Israel's long-lost son,* 
What time, with sweet forgiving cheer. 
He called his conscious brethren near, 

Would weep with them alone. 

He could not trust his melting soul 

But in his Maker's sia;ht — 
Then why should gentle hearts and true 
Bare to the rude world's withering view 

Their treasure of delight? 

No — let the dainty rose a while 

Her bashful fragrance hide ; 
Rend not her silken veil too soon. 
But leave her, in her own soft noon. 

To flourish and abide. 

John Kehle. 

* Joseph made haste; for his bowels did jearn upon 
his brother; and he sought whore to weep; and he 
entered into his chamber and wept there. — Gen. xliii. 30. 




AT EVENTIDE. 



THOU Infinitely Merciful ! 
Thy garment's hem in prayer we piii 
Bringing our burdens on our knees, 
We take the hand that lends release : 
Turn on us one forgiving look 
Before this day shall close its book. 

So yearningly we seek Thy face 
When darkness is our dwelling-place. 
Our foolish hearts, that daily roam. 
Would nightly nesde with Thee at home. 
Be with us here, and grant that we, 
Hereafter, Lord, may be with Thee I 

Father ! our inmost parts lie bare 
To Thine own purifying air ; 
We spread our stains out in Thy sight; 
O, Sun of Pureness, turn them white : 
And make our spirits clear as dew 
For Thine own Self to lighten through. 
(52) 



AN EVENTIDE. 53 

Send down the Comforter, we plead, 
For all who are in bitter need ; 
Let homeless Hagars find, we pray, 
Some well of succor by the way : , 
With the Angel of Thy Presence bless 
Poor wanderers in the wilderness. 

God keep our darlings safe this night, 
Though scattered, one still in Thy yight I 
Lead on by many w^ays, and past 
All perils, till we join at last : 
With us the broken links ; with Thee 
The circle perfect endlessly. 

Now take us. Father, to Thy breast, 
And still all troubled thoughts to rest; 
Thy watch and ward about us keep, 
That tired souls may smile asleep. 
And, having been in heaven a w^hile. 
May wake to-morrow with Thy smile ! 

Gerald Masscy. 





HYMN FOR NIGHT 



AFTER labor sweet is rest; 
Gently the wearied eyelids close ; 
As an infant sleeps on his mother's breast, 
The child of God may in peace repose. 
Whether we sleep, or whether we wake, 
We are His who gave His life for our sake. 

He to whom darkness is as light. 

Tenderly guards His slumbering sheep ; 

The Shepherd watches His flock by night. 
The feeble lambs He will safely keep. 

Whether we sleep, or whether we wake. 

We are His who gave His life for our sake. 



Death's 



night 



comes. 



may 



now be 



near 



Lord ! if our faith be fixed on Thee, 
O, how calm will that rest appear ! 

O, *how sweet will the waking be ! 
Whether we sleep, or whether we wake, 
We are His who gave His life for our sake. 

A. L. O. E. 
(54) 



DAY BY DAY. 



EVERY day has its dawn, 
Its soft and silent eve, 
Its noontide hours of bUss or bale, — 
Why should we grieve? 

Why do we heap huge mounds of years 

Before vis and behind, 
And scorn the little days that pass 

Like angels on the wind? 

Each turning round a small sweet face 

As beautiful as near; 
Because it is so small a face 

We will not see it clear : 

We will not clasp it as it flies. 

And kiss its lips and brow ; 
We will not bathe our w^earied souls 

In its delicious Now. 

And so it turns from us, and goes 

Away in sad disdain : 
Though we would give our lives for it. 

It never comes again. 
(55) 



56 E VEN ME. 

Yet every day has its dawn, 

Its noontide and its eve ; 
Live while we live, giving God thanks — 

He will not let us grieve. 

Mrs. D. Mulock Craik. 



EVEN ME 



LORD, I hear of showers of blessings 
Thou art scattering, full and free ; 
Showers the thirsty soul refreshing — 
Let some droppings fall on me. 

Even me. 

Pass me not, O gracious Father ! 

Lost and sinful though 1 be ; 
Thou mightst curse me, but the rather 

Let Thy mercy light on me, 

Even me. 

Pass me not, O tender Saviour ! 

Let me love and cling to Thee ; 
Fain I'm longing for Thy favor ; 

When Thou callest, call for me, 

Even me. 



E VEN ME. 57 

Pass me not, O mighty Spirit ! 

Thou canst make the bhnd to see ; 
Testify of Jesus' merit, 

Speak the word of peace to me, 

Even me. 

Have I long in sin been sleeping. 
Long been slighting, grieving Thee? 

Has the world my heart been keeping? 
O, forgive and rescue me I 

Even me. 

Love of God ! so pure and changeless ; 

Love of Christ ! so rich and free ; 
Grace of God ! so strong and boundless, 

Magnify it all in me. 

Even me. 

Pass me not. Almighty Spirit ! 

Draw this lifeless heart to Thee ; 
Impute to me the Saviour's merit ; 

Blessing others, O, bless me ! 

Even me. 




GETHSEMANE 



OVER Kedron Jesus treadeth 
To his passion for us all ; 
Every human eye be weeping, 

Tears of blood for Him let fall ! 
Round His spirit flock the foes, 
Place their shafts and bend their bows, 
Aiming at the Saviour sojely. 
While the w^orld forsakes Him wholly. 

David once, with heart afflicted. 

Crossed the Kedron's narrow strand, 

Clouds of gloom and grief about him. 
When an exile from his land. 

But, O Jesus ! blacker now 

Bends the cloud above Thy brow. 
Hasting to death's dreary portals 
For the shame and sin of mortals. 

See how, anguish-struck, He falleth 
Prostrate, and with struggling breath 

Three times on His God He calleth. 
Praying that the bitter death 

And the cup of doom may go. 

Till, replacing inward woe. 

Angel comforts round Him gather -^- 
"Not My will, but Thine, O Father! 
(58) 



GET USE MANE. 59 

See how, in that hour of darkness, 
Battling with the evil power, 

Agonies untold assail Him, 

On His soul their arrows shower ; 

All the garden-flowers are wet 

With the drops of bloody sweat 

From His anguished frame distilling — 
World's redemption thus fultiliing ! 

But, O flowers, so sadly v/atered 
By this pure and precious dew. 

In some blessed hour your blossoms 
'Neath the olive-shadows grew ! 

Paradise's gardens bear 

Naught that can with you compare, 
For the blood thus sprinkled o'er ye 
Makes m}^ soul the heir of glory. 

When as flowers themselves I wither, 
When I droop and fade like grass. 

When the life-streams through my pulses 
Dull and ever duller pass. 

When at last they cease to roll, 

Then, to cheer my sinking soul, 
Grace of Jesus, be Thou given ; — 
Source of triumph : pledge of heaven. 

Bishof Thos. Kingo. 




PATIENCE. 

WHEN my heart is sore within 
Through a hope of joy deferred, 
When I cannot conquer sin, 

Or my heart with pride is stirred, 
Mix for me the needful cup, 
Watch me till I drink it up. 

If this stubborn will of mine 

Will not bow itself to Thee, 
And I struggle and repine 

At the yoke imposed on me, 
Do not let me have my way ; 
Kindly, firml}'-, say me nay. 

And if patience may not come. 

But through pain, and toil, and strife; 

If it be denied to some 

Till the evening of their life. 

Let me suffer what I may. 

Still for patience will I pray. 
(60) 



ONE B r ONE. 6j[ 

Patience, Lord, is all I ask. 
Only give me rest in Thee ! 

Here is strength for every task*, 
This the life of liberty ! 

As we trust Thee here belov^. 

Will our weight of glory grow. 

A. W. T. 

— ^^'^cSE^^^N 



ONE BY ONE. 

ONE by one the sands are flowing. 
One by one the moments fall ; 
Some are coming, some are going — 
Do not strive to grasp them all. 

One by one thy duties wait thee, 
Let thy whole strength go to each ; 

Let no future dreams elate thee ; 

Learn thou first what these can teach. 

One by one (bright gifts from heaven), 
Joys are sent thee here below ; 

Take them readily, when given — 
Ready, too, to let them go. 



62 ONE B r ONE. 

One by one thy griefs shall meet thee, 
Do not fear an armed band ; 

One will fade, as others greet thee. 
Shadows passing through the land. 

Do not look at life's long sorrow. 
See how small each moment's pain ; 

God will help thee for to-morrow — 
So day begin again. 

Every hour that fleets so slowly, 
Has its task to do or bear; 

Luminous the crown, and holy, 
If thou set each gem with care. 

Do not linger with regretting. 
Or for passion's hour despond ; 

Nor, the daily toil forgetting, 
Look too eagerly beyond. 

Hours are golden links, God's token, 
Reaching heaven ; but one by one 

Take them, lest the chain be broken 
Ere the pilgrimage be done. 

Adelaide A. Proctor. 



CALLED BEFORE. 



THE sound of weeping is silenced, 
One by one the mourners have gone ; 
I am here alone in my chamber, 
But my spirit maketh no moan. 

From the pillow 's departed the silver, 
Of the lovely, soft, faded hair, 

And flown is the radiance tender. 
That dwelt on the face rested there. 

This day the years have been sixty, 
Since the radiance came to my life. 

Begun with thee at God's altar. 
With thee, — my God-given wife. 

The full happy years have been sixty, 
And my spirit maketh no moan. 

That He who gave them hath called thee. 
To come and dwell with His own. 

The years of my life have been many. 
And they cannot be many more, 

So even though they be lonely, 

I'm glad He hath called thee before. 

(63) 



64 ^^^ SOUL DOTH WAIT. 

For heaven holdeth more treasure, 
Than for me it e'er held of yore ; 

And at its theshold thou'lt meet me, 
So I'm glad He hath called thee before. 

Louise Reid Estes. 



MY SOUL DOTH WAIT 



AS those that w^atch for the day 
Through the restless night of pain, 
When the first faint streaks of gray 

Bring rest and ease again, — 
As they turn their sleepless eyes 

The eastern sky to see. 
Long hours before sunrise. 
So waiteth my soul for Thee ! 

As those that watch for the day 

Through the long, long night of grief, 
When the soul can only pray 

That the day may bring relief, 
When the eyes with weeping spent 

No dawn of hope can see. 
But the heart keeps watch intent. 

So waiteth my soul for Thee ! 



MT SOUL DOTH WAIT. 65 

As those that watch for the day 

Through that deepest night of all, 
When trembling and sin have sway, 

And the shades of Thy absence fall, 
As they search through clouds of fear 

The Morning Star to see, 
And the Light of life appear. 

So waiteth my soul for Thee ! 

As those that watch for the day 

And know the day will rise. 
Though the weary hours delay. 

And they pass under midnight skies. 
Though the Sun of Righteousness 

Only faith's clear eye can see. 
Because Thou hast promised to bless, 

Lord Jesus, I wait for Thee ! 

Christian Lyrics. 

s 





NEVER HASTING, NEVER RESTING. 



NEVER hasting, never resting, 
With a firm and joyous heart, 
Ever onward slowly tending. 

Acting, aye, a brave man's part. 

With a high and holy purpose, 
Doing all thou hast to do ; 

Seeking ever man's upraising, 
With the highest end in view. 

Undepressed by seeming failure, 

Unelated by success ; 
Heights attained, revealing higher, 

Onward, upward, ever press. 

Slowly moves the march of ages, 
Slowly grows the forest king. 

Slowly to perfection cometh 

Every great and glorious thing. 
(66) 



NEVER HASTING, NEVER RESTING. 67 

Broadest streams from narrowest sources, 
Noblest trees from meanest seeds, 

Mighty ends from small beginnings, 
From lowly promise, loft}^ deeds. 

Acorns which the winds have scattered, 

Future navies may provide ; 
Thoughts at midnight whispered lowly, 

Prove a people's future guide. 

Such the law enforced by nature 
Since the earth her course began ; 

Such to thee she teacheth daily, 
Eager, ardent, restless man. 

" Never hasting, never resting," 
Glad in peace, and calm in strife ; 

Quietly thyself preparing 
To perform thy part in life. 

Earnest, hopeful, and unswerving. 
Weary though thou art, and faint. 

Ne'er despair, there's One above thee 
Listing ever to thy plaint. 

Stumbleth he who runneth fast, 

Dieth he w^ho standeth still ; 
Not by haste, nor rest can ever 

Man his destiny fulfil. 



68 EVENING. 

" Never hasting, never resting," 

Legend fine, and quaint, and olden, 

In our thinking, in our acting, 
Should be Vvrit in letters golden. 

— Mi^>^€EE^^<^H 

EVENING. 



THE day, O Lord, is spent; 
Abide with us and rest ; 
Our hearts' desires are fully bent 
On making Thee our Guest. 

We have not reached that land, 

That happy land, as yet. 
Where holy angels round Thee stand, 

Whose sun can never set. 

Our sun is sinking now ; 

Our day is almost o'er ; 
O Sun of Righteousness, do Thou 

Shine on us evermore. 

John Mason Neale, 



IS THIS ALL? 



SOMETIMES I catch sweet glimpses of 
His face, 

,But that is all. 
Sometimes He looks on me and seems to 
smile, 

But that is all. 
Sometimes He speaks a passing word of peace, 

But that is all. 
Sometimes I think I hear His lovincr voice 
Upon me call. 

And is this all He meant when thus He spoke : 

" Come unto me " ? 
Is there no deeper, more enduring rest, 

In Him for thee? 
Is there no steadier light for thee in Him? 

O, come and see ! 

O, come and see ! O, look, and look again ! 

All shall be right ; 
O, taste His love, and see that it is good, 

Thou child of night. 
O, trust Him, trust Him in His grace and 
power, 

Then all is bright ! 
(69) 



70 



IS THIS ALL P 



Nay, do not wrong Him by thy heavy 
thoughts, 

But love His love ! 
Do thou full justice to His tenderness. 

His mercy prove ; 
Take Him for what He is ; O, take Him all, 

And look above ! 

Then shall thy tossing soul find anchorage 

And steadfast peace ; 
Thy. love shall rest on His ; thy weary doubts 

Forever cease. 
Thy heart shall find in Him, and in His 
grace, 

Its rest and bliss. 

Christ and His love shall be thy blessed all 

Forevermore ! 
Christ and His light shall shine on all thy ways 

Forevermore ! 
Christ and His peace shall keep thy troubled 
soul 

Forevermore ! 

Bonar. 



R.ECONCILED. 



OYEAR.S gone down into the payt, 
What pleasant memories come to me, 
Of your untroubled da3's of peace, 
And hours of almost ecstasy ! 

Yet I would have no moon stand still, 
Where life's most pleasant valleys lie ; 

Nor wheel the planet of the day 

Back on his pathway through the sky. 

For though, when youthful pleasures died, 
My youth itself went with them, too ; 

To-day, ay ! e'en this very hour, 
Is the best hour I ever knew. 

Not that my Father gives to me 

More blessings than in days gone by, 

Dropping in my uplifted hands 

AH things for which I blindly cry ; 

But that His plans and purposes 

Have grown to me less strange and dim ; 
And where I cannot understand, 

I trust the issues unto Him. 
(70 



72 RECONCILED. 

And spite of many broken dreams, 
This have I truly learned to say — 

Prayers which I thought unanswered once 
Were answered in God's own best way. 

And though some hopes I cherished once, 
Perished untimely in their birth, 

Yet I have been beloved and blest 
Beyond the measure of my worth. 

And sometimes in my hours of grief 
For moments, I have come to stand 

Where, in the sorrows on me laid, 

I felt the chastening of God's hand ; — 

Then learned I that the weakest ones 
Are kept securest from life's harms ; 

And that the tender lambs alone 
Are carried in the shepherd's arms. 

And, sitting by the wayside blind, 

He is the nearest to the light, 
Who crieth out most earnestly, 

" Lord, that I might receive my sight ! " 

O feet grown weary as ye walk. 

When down life's hill my pathway lies. 

What care I while my soul can mount. 
As the young eagle mounts the skies? 



ALL, ALL IS KNOWN TO T II E E. 73 

O e3'es, with weeping faded out, 
What matters it how dim ye be? 

My inner vision sweeps untired 
The reaches of eternity ! 

O death, most dreaded power of all, 

When the last moment comes, and thou 

Darkenest the windows of my soul, 
Through which I look on nature now ; 

Yea, when mortality dissolves, 

Shall I not meet thine hour unawed? 

My house eternal in the heavens. 
Is lighted by the smile of God ! 

Phoebe Cary* 



— M>@»^££E^^=^ 



ALL, ALL IS KNOWN TO THEE. 



MY God, whose gracious pity I may claim, 
Calling thee Father, sweet, endearing 
name ! 
The suflerings of this weak and weary frame, 
All, all are known to Thee. 



74 ALL, ALL IS KNOWN TO THEE. 

From human eye 'tis better to conceal 
Much that I sutler, much I hourly feel ; 
But O ! the thought does tranquillize and 
heal, — 

All, all is known to Thee. 

Each secret conflict with indwelling sin, 
Each sickening fear I ne'er the prize shall 

win , 
Each pang from irritation, turmoil, din, — 
All, all are known to Thee. 

Nay, all by Thee is ordered, chosen, planned. 
Each drop that fills my daily cup ; Thy hand 
Prescribes for ills none else can understand. 
All, all is known to Thee. 

Nor will the bitter draught distasteful prove,. 
When I recall the Son of Thy dear love ; 
The cup Thou wouldst not for our sakes 
remove, 

That cup He drank for me. 

And welcome, precious can His spirit make 
My little drop of suffering for His sake. 
Father, the cup I drink, the path I take, — 
All, all is known to Thee. 

Adelaide L. Neivton. 



COMFORT BY THE WAY. 



I JOURNEY through a desert drear and 
wild, 
Yet is my heart by such sweet thoughts be- 
guiled 
Of Him on whom I lean — my strength and 

stay — 
I can forget the sorrows of the way. 

Thoughts of His love ! the root of every grace 

Which finds in this poor heart a dwelling- 
place ; 

The sunshine of my soul, than day more 
bright. 

And my calm pillow of repose by night. 

Thoughts of His sojourn in this vale of tears ! 
The tale of love unfolded in those years 
Of sinless suffering and patient grace 
I love again, and yet again to trace. 

Thoughts of His glory ! on the cross I gaze, 
And there behold its sad, yet healing rays ; 
Beacon of hope ! which, lifted up on high. 
Illumes with heavenly light the tear-dimmed 
eye. 

(75) 



76 SWEET IS THE SOLACE, 



■^^?^ 



Thoughts of His coming ! For that joyful 

day 
In patient hope I watch, and wait, and 

pray ; 
The dawn draws nigh, the midnight shadows 

flee, 
And what a sunrise will that advent be ! 

Thus while T journey on, my Lord to meet, 
My thoughts and meditations are so sweet 
Of Him on whom I lean — my strength, my 

stay — 
I can forget the sorrows of the way. 



— M5^s^£S£^^g!=;H — 



SWEET IS THE SOLACE. 



SWEET is the solace of Thy love, 
My heavenly Friend, to me, 
As through the hidden way of faith 

I journey home with Thee, 
Learning by quiet thankfulness 
As a dear child to be. 



SWEET IS THE SOLACE. 77 



►^•?=«-- 



Though from the shadow of Thy peace 

My feet would often stray, 
Thy mercy follows all my steps, 

And will not turn away ; 
Yea, Thou wilt comfort me at last, 

As none beside Thee may. 

Oft in a dark and lonely place 
I hush m}^ hastened breath. 

To hear the comfortable words 
Thy loving Spirit saith, 

And feel my safety in Thy hands 
From every kind of death. 



Lord, there is nothing in the world 
To weigh against Thy will ; 

E'en the dark times I dread the most 
Thy covenant fulfil, 

And when the pleasant morning dawns 
I find Thee with me still. 



No other comforter I need, 
If Thou, O Lord, be mine ; 

Thy rod will bring my spirit low, 
Thy fire my heart refine, 

And cause me pain that none can heal 
With other love than Thine. 



7b C O ME UN T O ME . 

Thus in the secret of my soul, 
Though hosts my peace invade, 

Though through a waste and weary land 
My lonely way be made. 

Thou, even Thou, wilt comfort me, — 
I need not be afraid. 

Still in the solitary place 

I would a while abide ; 
Till with the solace of Thy love 

My heart is satisfied, 
And all my hopes of happiness 

Stay calmly at Thy side. 

Mi'ss A. L. Waring. 

COME UNTO ME. 



ART thou weary? art thou languid? 
Art thou sore distrest? 
" Come to me," saith One, " and, coming, 
Be at rest ! " 

Hath He marks to lead me to Him? 

If He be my guide, 
"In His hands and feet are v^ound-prints. 
And his side." 



COME UNTO ME. 79 

Is there diadem, as monarch, 

That His brow adorns? 
" Yes, a crown in very surety, 
But of thorns." 

If I find Him, if I follow. 

What His guerdon here ? 
" Many a sorrow, many a labor, 
Many a tear." 

If I still hold closely to Him, 

What hath He at last ? 
"Sorrow vanquished, labor ended, 
Jordan passed ! " 

If I ask Him to receive me, 

Will He say me nay ? 
" Not till earth and not till heaven 
Pass away ! " 

Tending, following, keeping, struggling, 

Is He sure to bless ? 
"Angels, martyrs, prophets, pilgrims, 
Answer, Yes ! " 

Stephen the Sabaite. 



THE LIFTING OF THE VEIL. 



BETWEEN the here and the hereafter. 
Heaven's repose and earthly strife, 
Hangs a mystic screen dividing 

Soul from soul and life from life. 
Soft as dew falls on the w^aters, 

Or the mist o'er mount and dale, 
Soundless as the buds unfolding. 
Is the lifting of the veil. 

When we pine with restless yearning, 

Some long vanished form to view. 
Seems the veil a luminous ether, 

Saintly faces shining through. 
We can almost catch the whispers, 

Sw'eet as sighs of summer gale. 
Almost see the beckoning fingers 

And the hfting of the veil. 

Yet when all the soul is weary 
Of life's turmoil, pain, and whirl. 

Till w^e strive to rend the curtain 
Lo ! w^e beat but walls of pearl. 
C8o) 



THE LIFTING OF THE VEIL. 8l 

We have missed the crystal doorways, 

Or the keys celestial fail ; 
And we stand without, impatient 

For the liflinoj of the veil. 

When the face we love grows pallid, 

Purer, clearer, day by day, 
Till we see the Spirit's lustre 

Shining through its tent of clay ; 
When the jewel leaves the casket. 

How we shudder, weep, and wail 
At the angels' noiseless beckoning. 

At the lifting of tfie veil. 

To the Infinite Creator 

The grand universe is one ; 
For blue*corridors are linking 

Sea, and sky, and stars, and sun ; 
It is all the Father's mansion. 

And the loved our hearts bewail, 
Did but reach an inner chamber 

At the lifting of the veil. 

Though we may not hear their footsteps, 

As they journey to and fro 
Through the hidden, shining chambers 

Noiseless as the fallen snow ; 
Though we may not see their vestments, 

Silvery pure as moonbeams pale. 
We shall meet them, fair as morning, 

At the liftinp' of the veil. 
6 



82 SUNDAT. 

With His visible works so mighty, 

"With such splendors spread abroad, 
What must be the secret places 

Of this palace of our God? 
Not with anguish, not with weeping. 

But with rapture should we hail 
Every beckoning of the angels. 

Every lifting of the veil. 

"• 

SUNDAY. 

ODAY most calm, most bright. 
The fruit of this, the next v/orld's bud. 
The indorsement of supreme delight. 
Writ by a friend, and with His blood ; 
The couch of time ; care's balm and bay : 
The week were dark but for Thy light. 
Thy Torch doth show the way. 

The other days and thou 
Make up one man ; whose face Thou art, 

Knocking at Heaven with thy brow ; 
The worky-days are the back part ; 
The burden of the week lies there, 
Making the whole to stoop and bow. 
Till thy release appear. 



SUNDAY. 83 

]Man had straightforward gone 
To endless death ; but thou dost pull 

And turn us round to look on One, 
Whom, if we were not very dull, 
We could not choose but look on still ; 
Since there is no place so alone. 
The which He doth not fill. 

Sundays the pillars are, 
On which Heaven's palace arched lies ; 

The other days fill up the spare 
And hollow room, with vanities. 
They are the fruitful beds and borders. 
In God's rich garden, that is bare, 

Which parts their ranks and orders. 

The Sundays of man's life. 
Threaded together on time's string. 
Make bracelets to adorn the wife 
Of the eternal glorious King. 
On Sunday Heaven's gate stands ope ; 
Blessings are plentiful and rife — 
More plentiful than hope. 

This day my Saviour rose. 
And did enclose this light for His ; 

That, as each beast His manger know^s, 
Man might not of his fodder miss. 
Christ hath took in this piece of ground, 
And made a garden there for those 
Who want herbs for their wound. 



84 SUN DAT. 

The rest of our creation 
Our great Redeemer did remove, 

With the same shake, which at Flis Passion 
Did the earth and all things with it move. 
As Samson bore the doors away, 

Christ's hands, though nailed, wrought our 
salvation, 
And did unhinge that day. 

The brightness of that day 
We sullied by our foul offence ; 

Wherefore that robe we cast away, 
Having a new at His expense. 
Whose drops of blood paid the full price 
That was required to make us gay, 
And fit for Paradise. 

Thou art a day of mirth ; 
And where the week days trail on ground. 

Thy flight is higher, as thy birth ; 
O, let me take thee at the bound. 
Leaping with thee from seven to seven. 
Till that we both, being tossed from earth, 
Fly hand in hand to Heaven ! 

George Herbert. 




THE WAY IS DARK, MY FATHER. 



THE way is dark, my Father ! cloud on 
cloud 
Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud 
The thunders roar above me. See, I stand 
Like one bewildered ! Father, take my hand. 
And through the gloom, 
Lead safely home 
Thy child ! 

The way is dark, my child ! but leads to light. 
I would not always have thee walk by sight. 
My dealings now thou canst not understand. 
I meant it so ; but I will take thy hand, 

And through the gloom 

Lead safely home 
My child ! 

The day goes fast, my Father ! and the night 
Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight 

(85) 



86 THE WAT IS DARK, MT FATHER. 

Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band, 
Encompass me. O Father ! take my hand, 

And from the nicrht . 

Lead up to light 
Thy child ! 

The day goes fast, my child ! But is the night 
Darker to me than day? In me is light ! 
Keep close to me, and every spectral band 
Of fears shall vanish. I will take thy hand, 

And through the night 

Lead up to light 
My child ! 

The way is long, my Father ! and my soul 
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal : 
While yet I journey through this weary land, 
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my 
hand ; 

Quickly and straight 
Lead to heaven's gate 
Thy child ! 

The way is long, my child ! But it shall be 
Not one step longer than is best for thee ; 
And thou shalt know, at last, when thou shalt 

stand 
Safe at the goal, how I did take thy hand, 
And quick and straight 
Led to heaven's gate 
My child ! 



THE WAT IS DARK, MT FATHER. 87 

The path is rough, my Father ! Many a 

thorn 
Has pierced me ; and my weary feet, all torn 
And bleeding, mark the way. Yet Thy 

command 
Bids me press forward. Father, take my 
hand ; 

Then, safe and blest. 
Lead up to rest 
Thy child ! 

The path is rough, my child ! But O ! how 

sweet 
Will be the rest, for weary pilgrims meet, 
When thou shalt reach the borders of that 

land. 
To which I lead tliee as I take thy hand, 
And, safe and blest, 
With me shall rest 
My child ! 

The cross is heavy. Father ! I have borne 
It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn 
And fainting spirit rise to that blest land 
Where crowns are given. Father, take my 
hand. 

And, reaching down. 
Lead to the crown 
Thy child! 



88 NOTHING BUT LEAVES. 

The cross is heavy, child ! Yet there was 

One 

Who bore a heavier for thee, my Son, 

My well beloved ! For Him bear thine ; 

and stand 

With Him at last, and from thy Father's 

hand. 

Thy cross laid down, 

Receive a crown, 

My child. 

H. N. C. 



NOTHING BUT LEAVES 



NOTHING but leaves : the spirit grieves 
Over a wasted life. 
Sins committed while conscience slept; 
Promises made, but never kept; 
Hatred, battle, and strife — 
Nothing but leaves. 

Nothing but leaves : no garnered sheaves 

Of life's fair ripened grain ; 
Words, idle words, for earnest deeds. 
We sow our seed — lo ! tares and weeds : 

Go reap with toil and pain 
Nothing but leaves. 



COMETH SUNSHINE AFTER RAIN. 89 

Nothing but leaves : memory weaves 

No veil to sever the past ; 
As we return our weary way, 
Counting each lost and misspent day, 

We find sadly, at last, 

Nothing but leaves. 

And shall we meet the Master so, 

Bearing our withered leaves? 
The Saviour looks for perfect fruit : 
We stand before Him, humbled, mute, 
. Waiting the word He breathes — 
Nothing but leaves. 



COMETH SUNSHINE AFTER RAIN, 



COMETH sunshine after rain ; 
After mourning, joy again ; 
After heavy, bitter grief, 
Dawneth surely sweet relief: 

And my soul, who, from her height, 
Sank to realms of woe -and night, 
Wingeth now to heaven her flight. 



90 COMETH SUNSHINE AFTER RAIN. 

He, wliom this world dares not face, 
Hath refreshed me with His grace. 
And His mighty hand unbound, 
Chains of hell about me wound ; 

Quicker, stronger, leaps my blood. 
Since His mercy, like a flood. 
Poured o'er all my heart for good. 

Bitter anguish have I borne, 
Keen regret my heart hath torn, 
Sorrow dimmed my weeping eyes, 
Satan blinded me with lies : 
Yet at last am I set free ; 
Help, protection, love, to me 
Once more true companions be. 

Ne'er was left a helpless prey. 

Ne'er with shame was turned away, 

He who gave himself to God, 

And on Him had cast a load ; 

Who in God his hope hath placed. 
Shall not life in pain outwaste ; 
Fullest joy he yet shall taste. 

Paul Gerliardt. 




GOD IS LOVE. 



LOVE in all its depth -and height, 
I will sing and never vveary — 
Love which maketh life so bright, 

And the drooping heart so cheery — 
Love whose fountain is with God, 

And whose streams in Christ descending, 
Flow where'er His footsteps trod. 
With all human blessings blending. 



Sunbeams dancing on the sea, 

South wind blowing o'er the meadow, 
Bird and blossom on the tree, 

Summer shine and summer shadow — 
Outward glancings of the Love 

That within in fadeless beauty 
Lights and leads my steps above, 

Up the rugged paths of dut}^ 
(9O 



Q2 NEAR SHORE. 

Love ! my God and King Thou art ! 

Ever will I bow before Thee : 
Ever shall this grateful heart 

Own Thy kingdom and adore Thee ; 
Neither life nor death can e'er 

From Thy love, my Saviour, sever ; 
Love hath made the sinner dear, 

And that love endureth ever. 

NEAR SHORE. 



THE seas of thought are deep and wide 
Let those who will, O friend of mine, 
Sail forth without a chart or guide. 
Or plummet-line ; 

A blank of w^aters all around, — 
A blank of azure overhead, — 
An infinite of nothing found. 

Whence faith has fled. 

The Name that w^e with reverence speak, 
Echoes across those w^astes of thought; 
But they who go far off to seek, 
They hear it not. 



NEAIi SHONE. 93 

The shores give back its sweetest sound 

From rivulet cool, and shadov/ed rock, 
And voices that calm hearths surround 
With friendly talk. 

Earth is our little island home. 

And heaven the neighboring continent, 
Whence winds to every inlet come 
With balmiest scent. 

And tenderest whispers thence we hear 
From those who lately sailed across ; 
They love us still ; since heaven is near, 
Death is not loss. 

From mountain slopes of breeze and balm. 

What melodies arrest the oar ! 
What memories ripple through the calm ! 
We'll keep near shore. 

By sweet home instincts wafted on, 

By all the hopes that life has nursed, 
We hasten where the loved have gone. 
Who landed first. 

If God be God, then heaven is real ; 

We need not lose ourselves and Him 
In some vast sea of the ideal, 
Dreamy and dim. 



94 NEAR SHORE. 

He cheats not any soul. He gave 

Each being unity like His 
Love, that links beings, He must save ; 
Of Him it is. 

Dear friend, we will not drift too far 

'Mid billows, fogs, and blinding foam, 
To see Christ's beacon-light — the star 
That guides us home. 

Moving toward heaven, we'll meet half-way 

Some pilot from that unseen strand ; 
Then, anchoring safe in perfect day. 
Tread the firm land. 

Then onward and forever on 

Toward summits piled on summits bright. 
The lost are found, and we have won 
The Land of Licrht ! 



■&" 



God is that country's glory : He 
Alike the confidence is found 
Of those who try th' uncertain sea 
Or solid ground. 

Yet w^e, for love of those who bend 

From yon clear heights, passed on before 
To wait our coming — we, dear friend. 
Will keep near shore. 

Lucy Larcom. 



COME, JESUS, WITH THE COMING 
NIGHT. 



COME, Jesus, with the coming night, 
Refresh and cheer my weary heart; 
At evening-time it shall be light, 

If Thou art near, though day depart. 

Welcome this shade that brinrcs release 
From hurrying labor's noise and strife ; 

That calls from restless thought to cease, 
And calms the throbbing pulse of life. 

From tedious toil, from anxious care. 
Dear Lord, I turn again to Thee; 

Thy presence and Thy smile to share. 
Makes every burden light to me. 

With Thee, of all sad thoughts beguiled, 
Peace nestles in my tranquil breast ; 

And like a pleased and happy child. 
In Thy kind arms I sink to rest. 

Till night's dark watches all are gone, 

O faithful Shepherd, guard my sleep ; 
And, when yon mountains greet the dawn, 
Give strength my heavenward way to keep. 

i?rty Palmer. 
(95) 



BEYOND THESE CHILLING WINDS. 

EYOND these chilling winds and gloomy 
skies, 

Beyond death's cloudy portal, 
There is a land where beauty never dies, 
And love becomes immortal, — 

A land whose light is never dimmed by shade, 

Whose fields are ever vernal ; 
Where nothing beautiful can ever fade. 

But bloom for aye eternal. 

We may not know how sweet its balmy air. 
How bright and fair its flowers ; 

We may not hear the songs that echo there, 
Through these enchanted bowers ; 

The city's shining towers we may not see 

With our dim earthly vision ; 
For death, the silent warder, keeps the key 

That opes the gates elysian ; 

But sometimes when adown the western sky 

The fairy sunset lingers. 
Its golden gates swing inward noiselessly, 

Unlocked by silent fingers. 
(96) 



THANKFULNESS. 97 

And while they stand a moment half ajar, 

Gleams from the inner glory 
Stream brightly through the azure vault afar, 

And half reveal the stor}^. 

O land unknown ! O land of love divine! 

Father, all-wise, eternal. 
Guide, guide these wandering, wayworn feet 
of mine 

Into those pastures vernal. 

N. A. TV. Priest, 

THANKFULNESS. 



MY God, I thank Thee who hast made 
The earth so bright ; 
So full of splendor and of joy, 

Beauty, and light ; 
So many glorious things are here, 
Noble and right ! 

I thank Thee, too, that Thou hast made 

Joy to abound ; 
So many gentle thoughts and deeds 

Circling us round, 
That in the darkest spot of earth 

Some love is found. 
7 



98 THANKFULNESS. 

I thank Thee more that all our joy 

Is touched with pain ; 
That shadows fall on brightest hours ; 

That thorns remain ; 
So that earth's bliss may be our guide, 

And not our chain. 

For Thou who knowest, Lord, how soon 

Our weak heart clings, 
Hast given us joys, tender and true, 

Yet all with wings, 
So that we see, gleaming on high, 

Diviner things ! 

I thank Thee, Lord, that Thou hast kept 

The best in store ; 
We have enough, yet not too much 

To long for more ; 
A yearning for a deeper peace 

Not felt before. 

I thank Thee, Lord, that here our souls, 

Though amply blest. 
Can never find, although they seek, 

A perfect r»st — 
Nor ever shall, until they lean 

On Jesu's breast. 

Ad al aide A. Proctor. 




THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK. 

THE Shadow of the Rock! 
Stay, Pilgrim, stay ! 
Night treads upon the heels of day ; 
There is no other resting-place this way. 
The Rock is near, 
The well is clear — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock! 
The desert wide 
Lies round thee like a trackless tide. 
In waves of sand forlornly multiplied. 
The sun is gone, 
Thou art alone — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
All come alone ; 
All, ever since the sun hath shone. 
Who travelled by this road have come alone. 
(99) 



lOO THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK. 

Be of j^ood cheer — 
A home is here — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
Night veils the land ; 
How the palms whisper as they stand ! 
How the well tinkles faintly through the sand ! 
Cool water take 
Thy thirst to slake — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
Abide ! Abide ! 
This Rock moves ever at thy side, 
Pausing to welcome thee at eventide. 
Ages are laid 
Beneath its shade — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
Always at hand, 
Unseen it cools the noon-tide land, 
And quells the fire that flickers in the sand. 
It comes in sight 
Only at night — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
'Mid skies storm-riven 



THE SHADOW OF THE ROCK. lOI 

It gathers shadows out of heaven, 
And holds tliem o'erus all night cool and even. 
Through the charmed air 
Dew falls not there ^- 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
To angels' eyes 
This Rock its shadow multiplies, 
And at this hour in countless places lies. 
One Rock, one shade, 
O'er thousands laid — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
To weary feet. 
That have been diligent and fleet, 
The sleep is deeper and the shade more sweet. 
O v/eary, rest ! 
Thou art sore pressed — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
Thy bed is madtj ; 
Crowds of tired souls like thine are laid 
This night beneath the self-same placid shade. 
They who rest here 
Wake with Heaven near — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 



I02 HE GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP. 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
Pilgrim ! sleep sound ; 
In night's swift hours with silent bound, 
The Rock will put thee over leagues of ground, 
Gaining more way 
By night than day — 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

The Shadow of the Rock ! 
One day of pain, 
Thou scarce wilt hope the Rock to gain, 
Yet there wilt sleep thy last sleep on the plain, 
And only wake 
In Heaven's daybreak — ■ 
Rest in the Shadow of the Rock ! 

Faber. 



HE GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP. 



'5i'fyi3>-t 



OF all the thoughts of God that are 
Borne inward into souls afar, 
Along the Psalmist's music deep. 
Now tell me if there any is, 
For gift or grace surpassing this — 
"He giveth His beloved sleep"? 



HE GIVETH HIS BELOVED SLEEP. 103 

What do we give to our beloved? 
A little faith all undisproved, 

A little dust to overweep, 
And bitter memories, to make 
The whole earth blasted for our sake : 

He giveth His beloved sleep. 

" Sleep soft, beloved," we sometimes say, 
But have no tune to charm away 

Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep ; 
But never doleful dream again 
Shall break the heavy slumber when 

He giveth His belovdd sleep. 

O earth, so full of dreary noises ! 
O men, with wailing in your voices ! 

O delved gold, the waller's heap ! 
'O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall ! 
God strikes a silence through 3^ou all, 

And giveth His beloved sleep. 

His dews drop mutely on the hill, 
His cloud above it saileth still, 

Though on its slope men sow and reap ; 
More softly than the dew is shed, 
Or cloud is floated overhead, 

He giv^eth His belovdd sleep. 

And, friends, dear friends, when it shall be 
That this low breath is gone from me. 



I04 THT WAT, NOT MINE. 

And round my bier ye come to weep, 
Let one most loving of you all, 
Say, "Not a tear o'er her must fall I 

' He giveth His beloved sleep.' " 

Mrs. E. B. Brozvutng: 



THY WAY, NOT MINE 



THY wa3S not mine, O Lord, 
Hov^^ever dark it be I 
Lead me by Thine own hand, 
Choose out the path for me. 

Smooth let it be, or rough, 
It will be still the best ; 

Winding or straight, it leads 
Right onward to Thy rest. 

I dare not choose my lot ; 

I would not if I might; 
Choose Thou for me, my God, 

So shall I walk aright. 

The kingdom that I seek 
Is Thine; so let, the way 

That leads to it be Thine, 
Else I must surelv stray. 



THE GOOD SHEPHERD. 105 

Take Thou my cup, and it 

With joy or sorrow fill, 
As best to Thee may seem ; 

Choose Thou my good and ill. 

Choose Thou for me my friends, 
My sickness, or my health ; 

Choose Thou my cares for me, 
My poverty or wealth. 

Not mine, not mine the choice, 
In things or great or small ; 

Be Thou my guide, my strength. 
My wisdom, and my all. 

H. Bonar. 



THE GOOD SHEPHERD 

INTO a desolate land, 
White with drifted snow. 
Into a weary land 

Our truant footsteps go : 
Yet doth Thy care, O Father, 

Ever Thy wanderers keep ; 
Still doth Thy. love, O Shepherd, 
Follow Thy sheep. 



Io6 ADORATION. 

Over the pathless wild, 

Do I not see Him come? 
Him who shall bear me back, 

Him who shall lead me home? 
Listen ! between the storm-gusts 

Unto the straining ear. 
Comes not the cheering whisper, 

"Jesus is near"? 

Over me He is bending ! 

Now I can safely rest, 
Found at the last, and clinging 

Close to the Shepherd's breast: 
So let me lie till the fold-bells 

Sound on the homeward track, 
And the rejoicing angels 

Welcome us back. 

W. E. Liitleivood. 



— M>@^3a=^^'=0=^ — 



ADORATION 



I LOVE my God, but with no love of mine, 
For I have none to give ; 
I love Thee, Lord ; but all the love is Thine, 
For by Thy life I live. 



CHRIST THE REFUGE. 107 

I am as nothing, and rejoice to be 

Emptied, and lost, and swallowed up in Thee. 

Thou, Lord, alone art all Thy children need, 
And there is none beside ; 

From Thee the streams of blessedness proceed, 
In Thee the blest abide, — 

Fountain of life, and all-abiding grace. 

Our source, our centre, and our dwelling-place. 

Madame Guyon. 



CHRIST THE REFUGE 



TOSSING in dreamy sleep, 
Rocked on the foam. 
Sad and sick, weak and worn. 

Far from his home, 
Sighs the lone wanderer. 

Seeking, in vain, 
Rest from his weariness, 
Ease from his pain. 

So Christ, the sinner's friend, 

Mighty to save, 
Slumbered once, wearily, 

7'o:-sed on the wave. 



I08 CHRIST THE REFUGE. 

Slept as the innocent 

Only can sleep, — 
Slept till the wind arose 

O'er the wild deep. . * 

Then, from His slumber roused, 

Calmly He spoke, 
While o'er the vessel's deck 

Rude billows broke. 
"Wild winds and stormy waves, 

Peace, peace, be still," — 
Wild winds and stormy waves 

Bowed to His will. 

We are the wanderers, 

Rocked on the foam, 
Sad and sick, weak and worn, 

Far from our home, 
Sighing and lonely, 

Seeking in vain 
Rest from our weariness. 

Ease from our pain. 

Speak to our troubled hearts. 

Saviour divine. 
Say to the tired and weak, 

"Peace, thou art mine." 
Glad, to this sheltering Rock, 

Dear Lord, we flee. 
None ever sought in vain 

Refuge in Thee. 



5. F. Smith. 




CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR 



HOPE of those that have no other, 
Left for life by father, mother. 
All then- dearest lost or taken. 
Only not by Thee forsaken ; 
Comfort Thou the sad and lonely, 
Saviour dear, for Thou canst only. 

When the glooms of night are o'er us, 
Satan in his strength before us; 
When despair, and doubt, and terror 
Drag the blinded heart to error; 
Comfort Thou the poor and lonely, 
Saviour dear, for Thou canst only. 

By Thy days of earthly trial. 
By Thy friend's foreknown denial. 
By Thy cross of bitter anguish, 
Leave not Thou Thy lambs to languish 
Comforting the weak and lonely, 
Lead them in Thy pastures only. 
(109) 



no THE GUIDING HAND. 

Sick with hope deferred, or yearning 
For the never-now-returnincf 
When the glooms of grief o'ershade us, 
Thou hast known, and Thou wilt aid us ! 
To Thine own heart take the lonely, 
Leaning on Thee, only, only. 

Francis Tiirney Palgravc. 
— M>@^£E£^^=^ — 

THE GUIDING HAND. 



S this the way, my Father? 'Tis, my 
child ; 
Thou must pass through this tangled, dreary 

wild. 
If thou wouldst reach the city undefiled, 
Thy peaceful home above. 

But enemies are round ! Yes, child, I know 
That where thou least expect'st thou'it find a 

foe ; 
But victor thou shalt prove o'er all below, 
Only seek strength above. 

]My Father, it is dark ! Child, take my hand, 
Cling close to me ; I'll lead thee through the 
land ; 



A PRESENT HELP. Ill 

Trust my all-seeing care ; so shalt thou stand 
'Midst glory bright above. 

JNIy footsteps seem to slide ! Child, only raise 
Thine eye to me, then in these slippery ways 
I will hold up thy goings ; thou shalt praise 
Me for each step above. 

O Father, I am weary I Child, lean thy head 
Upon My breast. It was My love that spread 
Thy rugged path ; hope on, till I have said, 
"Rest, rest for aye, above." 



— M>3^aa:-^^<=?H — 



A PRESENT HELP. 

WE may not climb the heavenly steeps 
To bring the Saviour down ; 
In vain w-e search the lowest deeps, 
For Him no depth can drown. 

But warm, sweet, tender, even yet 

A present help is He ; 
And faith has yet its Olivet, 

And love its Galilee. 



112 VESPER HTMN. 

The healing of His seamless dress 

Is by our beds of pain ; 
We touch Him in life's throng and press, 

And we are whole again. 

Through Him the first fond prayers are said 

Our lips of childhood frame, 
The last low whispers of our dead 

Are burdened with His name. 

O Lord and Master of us all ! 

Whate'er our name or sign. 
We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call, 

We test our lives by Thine. 

John G. Whittier. 



— M5^^^tE&i!^<^ — 



VESPER HYMN 



AGAIN, as evening's shadow falls. 
We gather in these hallowed walls ; 
And vesper hymn and vesper prayer 
Rise mingling on the holy air. 

May struggling hearts that seek release 
Here find the rest of God's own peace ; 



LAND OF BEAUTT. II3 

And strengthened here by hymn and prayer, 
Lay down their burden and their care ! 

O God, our hght ! to Thee we bow ; 
Within all shadows standest Thou ; 
Give deeper calm than night can bring, 
Give sweeter songs than lips can sing. 

Life's tumult we must meet again, 
We cannot at the shrine remain ; 
But in the spirit's secret cell 
May hymn and prayer forever dwell. 

Samuel Longfellow. 



LAND OF BEAUTY. 

THERE'S a land of peerless beauty, 
And of glory all untold. 
Where no shadow ever falleth. 

Where no sunny face grows old ; 
Where the crystal river flowcth. 
With the tree upon its banks, 
And with love each bosom gloweth, 
In the bright celestial ranks. 



114 



LAND OF BEAUTT. 



O, to reach that land of gLadness, 

Be it all my soul's desire ! 
Amid scenes of joy or sadness, 

Upward still I would aspire. 
Brief the pang my heart that rendeth, 

Brief the joy that swells it here ; 
But the rapture never endeth, 

Of that pure and blessed sphere. 

There is Jesus, my Redeemer, 

With the many crowns He wears, 
And the scars of earthly wounding. 

Precious tokens which He bears; 
There the angels, all so glorious. 

In the outer circle stand. 
While the souls by faith victorious, 

Are a nearer, dearer band. 

Then, while months and years are taking 

Like a dream their flight away. 
If they bring me but the breaking 

Of the one eternal day, 
I will not regret their fleetness. 

Nor hold fast to things below ; 
I will only ask a meetness 

For the bliss to which I ^o. 



THE WAY IS LONG AND DREARY. 



THE way is long and dreary, 
The patli is bleak and bare ; 
Our feet are worn and weary, 

But we will not despair. 
More heavy was Thy burden. 

More desolate Th}" way ; 
O Lamb of God, who takest 
The sin of the world away, 
Have mercy on us ! 

The snows lie thick around us, 

In the dark and gloomy night ; 
And the tempest wails above us, 

And the stars have hid their light; 
But blacker was the darkness 

Round Calvary's Cross that day. 
O Lamb of God, that takest 

The sin of the world away, 
. Have mercy on us ! 

Our hearts are faint with sorrow, 

Heavy and hard to bear ; 
For we dread the bitter morrow, 

But we will not despair: 
Thou know est all our anguish, 
(115) 



Il6 THE LOT OF LIFE. 

And Thou wilt bid it cease, — 
O Lamb of God who takest 
The sin of the world away, 
Give us Thy peace ! 

Adelaide A. Proctor. 



THE LOT OF LIFE. 



I KNOW not if the dark or bright 
Shall be my lot ; 
If that wherein my hopes delight 
Be best or not. 

It may be mine to drag for years 

Toil's heavy chain ; 
Or day and night my meat be tears, 

On bed of pain. 

Dear faces may surround my hearth 
With smiles and glee ; 

Or I may dwell alone, and mirth 
Be strange to me. 

My bark is wafted to the strand 

By breath divine. 
And on the helm there rests a Hand 

Other than mine. 



THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY. 117 

One who has known in storms to sail 

I have on board ; 
Above the raging of the gale 

I hear my Lord. 

He holds me when the billows smite ; 

I shall not fall : 
If sharp, 'tis short; if long, 'tis light; 

He tempers all. 

Safe to the land, safe to the land: 

The end is this ; 
And then with Him go hand in hand 

Far into bliss. 

Dean Alford. 



THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY. 



COULD we but know 
The land that ends our dark, uncer- 
tain travel, 
Where lie those happier hills and meadows 
low ; 
Ah ! if beyond the spirit's inmost cavil 
Aught of that country could we surely 
know, 

Who would not go? 



Il8 MIDNIGHT IITMN. 



Mijjht we but hear 
The hovering angels' high imagined chorus, 
Or catch, betimes, with wakeful eyes and 
clear, 
One radiant vista of the realm before us — 
With one rapt moment given to see and 
hear, 

Ah, who would fear? 

Were we quite sure 

To find the peerless friend who left us lonely, 

Or there, by some celestial stream as pure, 

To gaze in eyes that here were love-lit only — 

This weary mortal coil, were we quite sure, 

"Wbo would endure? 

Edinu7td C. Stedman. 

— M>^*^^££^^<M 



MIDNIGHT HYMN. 

IN the mid silence of the voiceless night, 
When, chased by airy dreams, the slum- 
bers flee. 
Whom in the darkness doth my spirit seek, 
O God, but Thee? 

And if there be a weight upon my breast. 
Some vague impression of the day foregone. 
Scarce knowing what it is, I fly to Thee, 
And lay it down. 



T II r WILL BE D ONE. 119 

Or if it be the heaviness that comes 
Tn token of anticipated ill, — 
My bosom takes no heed of what it is, 
Since 'tis Thy will. 

For O ! in spite of past or present care, 
Or anything beside — how joyfully 
Passes that silent, solitary hour, 
My God, with Thee ! 

More tranquil than the stillness of the night, 
More peaceful than the silence of that hour, 
More blest than anything, my bosom lies 
Beneath Thy power. 

For what is there on earth that I desire, 
Of all that it can give or take from me? 
Or whom in heaven doth my spirit seek, 
O God, but Thee? 

— M>®^£tD^!^<4H — 

"THY WILL BE DONE." 



MY God, my Father, while I stray 
Far from my home on life's rough way, 
O, teach me from my heart to say, — 
"Thy will be done!" 

Though dark my path, and sad my lot, 
Let me be still, and murmur not ; 



I20 THT WILL BE DONE. 

And breathe the prayer divinely taught, 
" Thy will be done ! " 

What though in lonely grief I sigh 
For friends beloved, no longer nigh, 
Submissive still would I reply, 
"Thy will be done!" 

If Thou shouldst call me to resign 
What most I prize, — it ne'er was mine, - 
I have but yielded what was Thine. 
" Thy will be done ! " 

Should grief or sickness waste away 
My life in premature decay. 
My Father, still Til strive to say, 
" Thy will be done ! " 

Let but mv faintincr heart be blest 
With Thy sweet Spirit for its guest. 
My God, to Thee I leave the rest. 
"Thy will be done!" 

Renew my will from day to day. 
Blend it with Thine, and take away 
All that now makes it hard to say, 
" Thy will be done ! " 

Then, when on earth I breathe no more 
The prayer, oft mixed with tears before, 
I'll sing upon a happier shore, 
"Thy will be done!" 

Charlotte Elliott. 




"TAKE UP THY CROSS, AND 
FOLLOW ME." 

— -BiSAr- — 

THE way seems long, dear Leader, and 
my feet 

Are weary, pressing oft these thorns ; 'twere 
sweet, 

Methinks, to rest, — this heavy cross remove. 

" Thou surely need'st not thus My love to 
prove. 

Rest not, weak heart, nor lay thy burden 
down, 

For earth's short rest, wouldst lose thy heav- 
enly crown? " 

The way is dark, dear Leader ; mists arise 
That hide Thy blessed presence from my 

eyes ; 
I stumble on this lonely mountain wild : 
O loving Father ! spare me, spare Thy child. 
"Dost hear My voice? Then follow as I 

bade : 
Thou'rt safe, if firm on Me thy trust is 

stayed." 

(131) 



122 TAKE UP THT CROSS. 

But I am faint, dear Leader, and I sink ; 

" My steps are well nigh gone ; " upon the 

brink 
I helpless fall, — put forth Thy mighty power, 
And save me, loving Father, in this hour. 
"Drink freely of the brook that floweth by, 
Then lift thy head, thy Leader still is nigh." 

And must it thus, dear Leader, ever be? 
And may we here no resting-place e'er see? 
Though faint and weary, light or dark the 

way. 
Press forward e'er, to reach heaven's blessed 

day? 
"Enough that, as the Master, thou shouldst 

live ; 
Faithful to death, thou shalt the crown re- 



Onward, dear Jesus ! safely by Thee led, 
" Faint, yet pursuing," still the path I'll tread ; 
Gird me with strength, then e'er my prayer 

shall be, 
"Father, e'en so it seemeth good to Thee;" 
"And as thy days thy strength shall ever be, 
While heaven's eternal glory w^aiteth thee." 

F. R. Whiton. 



IN THE CROSS OF CHRIST I 
GLORY. 



IN the cross of Christ I glory, 
Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; 
All the light of sacred story 

Gathers round its head sublime. 

When the woes of life o'ertake me, 
Hopes deceive, and fears annoy. 

Never shall the cross forsake me ; 
Lo ! it glows with peace and joy. 

When the sun of bliss is beaming 
Light and love upon my way, 

From the cross the radiance streaming, 
Adds more lustre to the day. 

Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure. 
By the cross are sanctified ; 

Peace is there that knows no measure, 
Joys that through all time abide. 

In the cross of Christ I glory, 
Towering o'er the wrecks of time ; 

All the light of sacred story 
Gathers round its head sublime. 

H. Bonar, 
(123) 



BREAST THE WAVE, CHRISTIAN. 



BREAST the wave, Christian, when it is 
strongest ; 
Watch for day. Christian, when the night's 

longest ; 
Onward and onward still be thine endeavor, 
The rest that remaineth will be forever. 

Fight the fight. Christian ; Jesus is o'er thee ; 
Run the race. Christian ; heaven is before 

thee ; 
He who hath promised faltereth never; 
The love of eternity flows on forever. 

Raise the eye. Christian, just as it closeth ; 
Lift the heart, Christian, ere it reposeth ; 
Thee from the love of Christ nothing can 

sever ; 
Mount when thy work is done — praise Him 

forever. 

(124) 



KNOCKING, EVER KNOCKING.* 

"behold, I STAND AT THE DOOR AND KNOCK ! " 

KNOCKING, knocking, ever knocking ! 
Who is there? 
'Tis a pilgrim, strange and kingly; 
Never such was seen before; 
Ah, sweet soul, for such a wonder 
Undo the door. 

No ! that door is hard to open ; 
Hinges rusty, latch is broken ; 

Bid Him jjo. 
Wherefore, with that knocking dreary, 
Scare the sleep from one so weary? 

Say Him — no. 

Knocking, knocking, ever knocking ! 

What! Still there? 
O, sweet soul, but once behold Him, 
With the glory-crovvncd hair ; 
And those eyes, so strange and tender, 

Waiting there. 
Open! Open! Once behold Him — 

Him so fair ! 

* Suggested by Hunt's picture of the " Light of the 
World." 

( 125 ) 



126 KNOCKING, EVER KNOCKING. 

Ah, that door! Why wilt Thou vex me, 

Coming ever to perplex me? 

For the key is stiffly rusty. 

And the bolt is clogged and dusty ; 

Many fingered ivy vine 

Seals it last with twist and twine ; 

Weeds of years, and years before. 

Choke the passage of that door. 

Knocking, knocking ! What? Still knock- 
ing, 

He still there? 
What's the hour? The night is waning — 
In my heart a drear complaining, 

And a chilly, sad unrest ! 
Ah, this knocking ! It disturbs me I 
Scares my sleep with dreams unblest ! 

Give me rest : 

Rest — ah, rest ! 

Rest, dear soul. He longs to give thee; 
Thou hast only dreamed of pleasure — 
Dreamed of gifts and golden treasure — 
Dreamed of jewels in thy keeping, 
Waked to weariness of weeping ; 
Open to thy soul's one Lover, 
And thy night of dreams is over, — 
The true gifts He brings have seeming 
More than all thy faded dreaming ! 



MIDNIGHT WORSHIP 127 

Did she open? Doth she? Will she? 
So, as wondering we behold, 
Grows the picture to a sign. 
Pressed upon your soul and mine ; 
For in every breast that liveth 
Is that strange mysterious door ; 
The forsaken and betangled. 
Ivy-gnarled and weed-bejangled. 
Dusty, rusty, and forgotten , 
There the piercdd hand still knocketh, 
And with ever patient watching, 
With the sad eyes true and tender, 
With the glory-crowned hair, — 
Still a God is waiting there. 

H. BeecJier Sto-we. 



— xs^^^aas-^^^^K — 



MIDNIGHT WORSHIP 



O UNSLEEPING ! ever keeping 
Faithful watch about my bed, 
O'er me bending, and defending 

From all ill my weary head ; 
Now each restless thought composing, 
And in peace these eyelids closing, 
Father, keep my soul," I said. 



128 MIDNIGHT WORSHIP. 

Thou didst hear me. Thou art near me, 
Waking at this midnight hour ; 

Changing never, loving ever, 

Thou art my defence, and tower ; 

Thoughts of Thee dispel all sadness, 

Thoughts of Thee give strength and glad- 
ness, 
And I rest upon Thy power. 

Purely glowing, stars are throwing 
Glad rays through the salemn night, 

Ever gleaming, as if beaming. 
With Thy glory on my sight , 

By their order and their beauty, 

Thou dost teach me love and duty, 
Bid me shine with virtue's light. 

Praises bringing, upward springing, 
Mounts my quickened soul to Thee ; 

Hope fultilling, passion stilling. 
Thou dost come, my God, to me! 

And in holy, sweet communing, 

All my noblest powers attuning, 
Thou dost teach me Thine to be. 

Nightly waking, from me shaking 

Slumbers soft, I will arise ; 
Bowing lowly, O Most Holy, 

I will lift to Thee mine eyes ; 
So shall speed my warm devotion. 
Winged by tender, pure emotion, 

Upward through the midnigl.t skies. 



MIDNIGHT WORSHIP. 1 29 

Ever living, ever giving 

Life and joy to all Tiiine own ; 

Interceding as once bleeding, 

Priest and Lamb, before the throne ; 

Thou my prayer presentest ever, 

Thou my praise refusest never : 
Christ, I trust in Thee alone. 

So w^hile praying, calmly saying, 
" Father, bless me from above ! " 

So believing arid receiving 

Gifts of grace and smiles of love, 

I again my eyelids closing. 

And till dawn in peace reposing, 
All thy faithfulness shall prove. 

Ray Palmer. 

9 





THE DAY OF REST. 



AFRESH, bewildering sweetness 
Is floating in the air; 
A hush, a holy stillness. 

Is reigning everywhere ; 
The flowering trees and blossoms 

Send incense, O Most High ! 
And over all there bendeth 
Summer's deep blue sky. 

It must be God is sending 

His holy blessing down. 
Power to mortals lending, 

To struggle for His crown ; 
He knoweth, ah, He knoweth, 

And doeth all things best ; 
He made for weary hearted 

This sacred day of rest. 

It shall make strong the weary, 
Who lay their burdens down. 

Though life looks sad and dreary, 
li thev kneel before His throne, 
(130) 



THE DAT OF REST. 131 

Asking with hearts repentant, 
That by Him they be blest, 

To them He'll make this Sabbath 
A holy day of rest. 

It must be that God's blessing, 

Filling with peace the earth. 
To bird, to tree, to flower, 

To all things that have birth, 
Has given will and power 

To do their very best, 
Or could they so beguile us 

To pause, to linger, — rest? 

Let not the incense holy, 

From Nature's heart alone, 
Be wafted, peaceful, slowly. 

Unto the Father's throne; 
But let His children many. 

With loving, pious zest. 
Raise thankful hearts and lowly 

On each sweet day of rest. 

Let us not make Him weary. 

By heeding not His good ; 
He ever maketh query. 

Is His will understood? 
To know- His will and do it. 

Will make us His own blest, 
Will make the long hereafter 

Like sweetest da3^s of rest. 



132 THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 

And when the Sabbath's chiming 

Rings clear upon the air, 
Let grateful souls responding, 

Seek peace and strength in prayer ; 
The hearts of all His children 

Unite, though care-oppressed. 
To praise Him, call Him Father, 

On His glad day of rest. 

Louise Re id Estes. 



THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 

I SEE them far away, 
In their calm beauty, on the evening skies ; 
Across the golden west their summits rise, 

Bright with the radiance of departing day. 
And often, ere the sunset light was gone, 
Gazing and longing, I have hastened on. 
As with new strength, all weariness and pain 
Forgotten in the hope those blissful heights to 
gain. 

Heaven lies not far beyond, 
But these are hills of earth ; our changeful air 
Circles around them, and the dwellers there 
Still own mortality's mysterious bond. 



THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS. 133 

The ceaseless contact, the continued strife, 
Of sin and grace, which can but close with 

hfe, 
Is not yet ended, and the Jordan's roar 
Still sounds between their path and the celes- 
tial shore. 

But there, the pilgrims say, 
On these calm heights, the tumult and the 

noise 
Of all our busy cares and restless joys 

Has almost in the distance died away ; 
All the past journey " a right waj^ " appears. 
Thoughts of the future wake no faithless fears, 
And through the clouds, to their rejoicing eyes, 
The city's golden streets and pearly gates arise. 

Courage, poor fainting heart \ 
These happy ones, in the far distance seen, 
Were sinful wanderers once, as thou hast been, 

Weary and sorrowful, as now thou art. 
Linger no longer on the lonely plain ; 
Press boldly onward, and thou, too, shalt gain 
Their vantage-ground, and then, with vigor 

new. 
All thy remaining race and pilgrimage pursue. 

Ah ! iar too faint, too poor 
Are all our views and aims — we only stand 
Within the borders of the promised land ; 
Its precious things we seek not to secure ; 



134 GOD IS LO VE. 

And thus our hands hang down, and oft un- 
strung 
Our harps are left the willow-trees among. 
Lord, lead us forward, upward, till we know 
How much of heavenly bliss may be enjoyed 
below. 

H. L. L. 



— NG@^tE&^^<^ 



GOD IS LOVE 



I CANNOT always trace the way 
Where Thou, Almighty One, dost move 
But I can always, always say, 
That God is love. 

When Fear her chilling mantle flings 

O'er earth, my soul to heaven above, 
As to her native home, upsprings, 
For God is love. 

When mystery clouds my darkened path, 

I'll check my dread, my doubts reprove : 
In this my soul sweet comfort hath, 
That God is love. 



THE UNSEEN FRIEND. 135 

Yes, God is love ; a thought like this 
Can every gloomy thought remove, 
And turn all tears, all woes, to bliss, 
For God is love. 



THE UNSEEN FRIEND. 

OHOLY Saviour ! Friend unseen, 
The faint, the weak, on Thee may 
lean ; 
Help me, throughout life's varying scene, 
By faith to cling to Thee ! 

Blest with communion so divine, 
Take what Thou wilt; shall I repine. 
When, as the branches to the vine, 
My soul may cling to Thee? 

Far from her home, fatigued, oppressed, 
Here she has found a place of rest, 
An exile still, yet not unblest. 

While she can cling to Thee ! 



136 THE UNSEEN FRIEND. 

Without a murmur I dismiss 
My former dreams of earthly bHss ; 
My joy, my recompense be this, 
Each hour to cling to Thee ! 

What though the world deceitful prove, 
And earthly friends and joys remove, 
With patient, uncomplaining love, 
Still would I cling to Thee ! 

Oft when I seem to tread alone 
Some barren waste with thorns o'ergrown, 
A voice of love, in gentlest tone. 
Whispers, " Still cling to me ! " 

Though faith and hope a while be tried, 
I ask not, need not, aught beside ; 
How safe, how calm, how satisfied. 
The soul that clings to Thee ! 

They fear not life's rough storms to brave. 
Since Thou art near, and strong to save ; 
Nor shudder e'en at death's dark wave, 
Because they cling to Thee ! 

Blest is my lot, whate'er befall ; 
What can disturb me, who appall. 
While, as my strength, my rock, my all. 
Saviour, I cling to Thee? 

Charlotte Elliott. 



i 



CHRIST EVER NEAR. 



OLOVE Divine ! that stooped to share 
Our sharpest pang, our bitterest tear, 
On Thee we cast each earth-born care, 
We smile at pain while Thou art near. 

Though long the weary way we tread, 
And sorrow crown each lingering year. 

No path we shun, no darkness dread, 

Our hearts still whispering. Thou art near. 

When drooping pleasure turns to grief. 
And trembling faith is changed to fear. 

The murmuring wind, the quivering leaf, 
Shall sofdy tell us. Thou art near. 

On Thee we fling our burdening woe, 

O Love Divine, forever dear, 
Content to suffer while we know, 

Living or dying. Thou art near. 

O. W. Holmes, 
(137) 



JESUS, MY ALL. 



— -C.'€^CA>^>-*'" 



JESUS, my Saviour, look on me ! 
For I am weary and oppressed ; 
I come to cast my soul on Thee ; 
Thou art my rest. 

Look down on me, for I am weak ; 

I feel the toilsome journey's length ; 
Thine aid omnipotent I seek ; 
Thou art my strength. 

I am bewildered on my way ; 

Dark and tempestuous is the night : 
O, shed Thou forth some cheering ray ; 
Thou art my light. 

I hear the storms around me rise. 

But when I dread th' impending shock, 
My spirit to her refuge flies ; 
Thou art my rock. 

When the accuser flings his darts, 

I look to Thee, — my terrors cease; 
Thy cross a hiding-place imparts ; 
Thou art my peace. 

(138) 



LEANING ON THEE. 



139 



Standing alone on Jordan's brink, 
In that tremendous, latest strife, 
Thou wilt not sufler me to sink ; 
Thou art ni}^ life. 

Thou wilt my every want supply. 
E'en to the end, whate'er befall ; 
Through life, in death, eternally. 
Thou art mv all. 

y. E. Macduff, D. D, 



— Mi^>^ie^^cSH — 



LEANING ON THEE 



LEANING on Thee, my Guide and Friend, 
My gracious Saviour ! I am blest ; 
Though weary. Thou dost condescend 
To be my rest. 

Leaning on Thee, with child-like faith, 

To Thee the future I confide ; 
Each step of life's untrodden path 
Thy love will guide. 



140 



LEANING ON THEE 



Leaning on Thee, I breathe no moan, 

Though faint with languor, parched with 
heat ; 
Thy will has now become my own ; 
That will is sweet. 

Leaning on Thee, 'midst torturing pam 
With patience Thou my soul dost fill ; 
Thou whisper'st, "What did I sustain?" 
Then I am still. 

Leaning on Thee, I do not dread 

The havoc that disease may make ; 
Thou who for me Thy blood hast shed 
Wilt ne'er forsake. 

Leaning on Thee, though faint and weak, 

Too weak another voice to hear, 
Thy heavenly accents comfort speak : 
" Be of good cheer." 

Leaning on Thee, no fear alarms ; 

Calmly I stand on death's dark brink ; 
I feel " the everlasting arms ; " 
I cannot sink. 




THE SECRET. 

"thou SHALT KEEP THEM IN THE SECRET OF THY 
PRESENCE FROM THE STRIFE OF TONGUES." 

WHEN winds are raging o'er the upper 
ocean, 
And billows wild contend with angry roar, 
'Tis said, far down beneath the wild commo- 
tion. 
That peaceful stillness reigfteth evermore. 

Far, far beneath, the noise of tempest dieth, 
And silver waves chime ever peacefully ; 

And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, 
Disturbs the Sabbath of that deeper sea. 

So to the soul that knows Thy love, O Purest, 
There is a temple peaceful evermore ; 

And all the babble of life's angry voices 
Dies in hushed stillness at its sacred door. 

Far, far away the noise of passion dieth, 
And loving thoughts rise ever peacefully, 

And no rude storm, how fierce soe'er it flieth, 
Disturbs that deeper rest, O Lord, in Thee. 
(141) 



142 I AM HIS, AND HE IS MINE. 

O Rest of rests, O Peace, serene, eternal, 
Thou ever livest, and Thou changest never ; 

And in the secret of Thy presence dwelleth 
Fulness of joy, forever and forever. 

H. B. Sto'cve. 



I AM HIS, AND HE IS MINE. 

LONG did I toil, and knew no earthly rest ; 
Far did I rove, and found no certain 
home ; 
At last I sought them in His sheltering breast 
Who opes His arms, and bids the weary 
come ; 
With Him I found a home, a rest divine ; 
And I since then am His, and He is mine. 

Yes, He is mine ; and nought of earthly things, 
Not all the charms of pleasure, wealth, or 
power. 
The fame of heroes, or the pomp of kings. 

Could tempt me to forego His love an hour. 
"Go, worthless world," I cry, "w'ith all that's 

thine I 
Go ! I my Saviour's am, and He is mine." 



I AAI HIS, AND 11 B IS MINE. I43 

The good I have is from His stores supplied ; 

The ill is only what He deems the best; 
He for my friend, I'm rich with nought beside ; 

And poor without Him, though of all pos- 
sessed. 
Changes may come ; I take or I resign ; 
Content wdiile I am His, while He is mine. 

Whatever may change, in Him no change is 
seen ; 

A glSrious Sun, that wanes not nor declines ; 
Above the clouds and storms He walks serene. 

And sweetly on His people's darkness shines. 
All may depart : I fret not nor repine. 
While I my Saviour's am, while He is mine. 

He stays me falling, lifts me up when down, 
Reclaims me wandering, guards from every 
foe. 

Plants on my worthless brow the victor's crown, 
Which, in return, before His feet I throw, 

Grieved that I cannot better grace His shrine, 

Who deigns to own me His, as He is mine. 

While here, alas ! I know but half His love. 
But half discern Him, and but half adore; 

But when I meet Him in the realms above, 
I hope to love Him better, praise Him more, 

And feel and tell, amid the choir divine, 

How fully I am His, and He is mine. 

Henry Francis Lyte. 



INCOMPLETENESS 



NOTHING resting in its own complete- 
ness 
Can have worth or beauty ; but alone 
Because it leads and tends to further sweet- 
ness, 
Fuller, higher, deeper than its own. 

Spring's real glory dwells not in the meaning, 
Gracious though it be, of her blue hours ; 

But is hidden in her tender leaning 

To the Summer's richer wealth of flowers. 



Dawn is fair, because the mists fade slowly 
Into day, which floods the world with light ; 

Twilight's mystery is so sweet and holy. 
Just because it ends in starry night. 

Childhood's smiles unconscious graces borrow 
From strife, that in a far-off' future lies ; 

And angel-glances (veiled now by life's sor- 
row) 
Draw our hearts to some beloved eyes. 

Life is only bright when it proceedeth 
Towards a truer, deeper life above ; 

Human love is sweetest when it leadeth 
To a more divine and perfect love. 

(144) 



/ AAI NOW READ 7' TO BE OFFERED. 145 

Learn the mystery of progression duly ; 

Do not call each glorious change, decay ; 
But know we only hold our treasures truly 

When it seems as if they passed away ; 

Nor dare to blame God's gifts for incomplete- 
ness ; 
In that want their beauty lies ; they roll 
Towards some infinite depth of love and sweet- 
ness, 
Bearing onward man's reluctant soul. 

» . Adelaide A. Proctor. 



— Mi^^aiE^^ — 



"I AM NOW READY TO BE 
OFFERED." 



RESTING on the Rock of Ages, 
Safe above the billowy tide, 
Sheltered from each rushing current, 

I have all life's storms defied. 
Now I w^atch the slanting sunbeams, 

As they redden in the west, 
Life's long labors calmly leaving 
For the glorious land of rest. 
10 



146 / AM NOW READY TO BE OFJ^ERED. 

Ready now to spread my pinions, 

Glad to wing my flight away 
From the gloom that hovers round me 

To the realms of endless day. 
Ready to be washed and pardoned, 

Ready to be pure from sin. 
Ready to complete the conflict. 

Ready heavenly joy to win. 

Ready to be freed from sorrow, 

Tears and partings, toil and pain. 
Ready for the heavenly mansion, — 

Life is dear, but death is gain. 
Ready to forsake the shadows 

Of the night, so dim and long ; 
Ready for the harp of glory. 

Ready for the angels' song. . 

Ready, with salvation's banner, 

To ecstatic joy to rise.; 
Ready for the glad hosanna 

In the heavenly Paradise. 
Ready with the just made perfect, 

Clothed in robes of light, to be 
Swelling the enraptured chorus,— 

Singing joy and victory. 

Ready to behold the Saviour, 
With His likeness satisfied ; 

Christ's alone, and Christ's foi'ever ; 
Christ my portion, Christ my guide ; 



/ AM NOW READ 2^ TO BE OFFERED. 147 



'^^? 



In His righteousness accepted, 

Ready at His feet to fall, 
Saved by grace, a worthless sinner. 

Nothing I, — Christ all in all. 

Heavenly messengers are round me : 

Hark, their voices bid me come, — 
" Earth and time too long have bound thee ; 

Waiting spirit, welcome home." 
Glad I go, — my toil is finished, — 

Broke at last each earthly spell ; 
Upward now ni}' soul is tending ; 

Earth, and time, and death, farewell. 

As the bird with warblincf music 

Soars above our feeble sight. 
Singing still, and still ascending. 

Melting in heaven's glorious light, — 
So the dying saint, departing. 

Joyful took his heaven w^ard way ; 
Life, and time, and gladness "blending 

In the light of perfect day. 

6'. F. Smith. 




LEAVE ME NOT NOW 



L 



EAVE me not now, while still the shade 
is creeping 

O'er the sad heart that longs to rest in Thee ; 
Hear my complaint, and while my soul is 
weeping, 
Breathe Thou the holy dew of sympathy. 

Leave me not now, Thou Saviour of compas- 
sion, 
While yet the busy tempter lurketh near ; 
Lord, by Thine anguish and Thy wondrous 
passion. 
Do I entreat Thee now to linger here. 

Jesus, Thou soul of love. Thou heart of feel- 
ing' 

Let me repose the. weary night away 
Safe on Thy bosom, all my woes revealing, 

Secure fiom danger, till the dawn of day. 

Then leave me not, O Comforter and Father, 

Parent of love ! I live but in Thy sight ; 
Good Shepherd, to Thy fold the wanderer 
gather, 
There to adore Thee, morning, noon, and 
night. 

(148) 




TRUST . 



THE child leans on its parent's breast, 
Leaves there its cares, and is at rest 
The bird sits singing by its nest. 

And tells aloud 
His trust in God, and so is blest 
'Neath every cloud. 

He hath no store, he sows no seed, 
Yet sings aloud, and doth not need ; 
By flowing streams or grassy mead. 

He sings to shame 
Men who forget, in fear of need, 

A Father's name. 



The heart that trusts forever sings, 
And feels as light as it had wings ; 
A well of peace within it springs ; 

Come good or ill, 
Whate'er to-day, to-morrow brings. 

It is His will I 

Isaac Williams. 

(149) 



JESUS MY LORD. 

THOU, blessed Son of God, 
Hast bought me with Thy blood, 
Jesus my Lord ! 
O, how great is Thy love. 
All other loves above. 
Love that I daily prove, 

Jesus my Lord ! 

When unto Thee I flee. 
Thou wilt my refuge be, 

Jesus my Lord ! 
What need I now to fear, 
What earthly grief or care, 
Since Thou art ever near? 

Jesus my Lord ! 

Soon Thou wilt come again ! 
1 shall be happy then, 

Jesus my Lord ! 
Then Thine own ftice I'll see, 
Then I shall like Thee be, 
Then evermore with Thee, 

Jesus my Lord ! 
(150) 



NOT AS I WILL, BUT AS THOU 
WILT. 



I WORSHIP Thee, sweet Will of God ! 
And all Thy ways adore, 
And every day I live I seem 
To love Thee more and more. 

Thou wert the end, the blessed rule 

Of Jesu's toils and tears ; 
Thou wert the passion of His Heart 

Those three and thirty years. 

I love to kiss each print where Thou 

Hast set Thine unseen feet : 
I cannot fear the blessed Will, — 

Thine empire is so sweet. 

When obstacles and trials seem 

Like prison-walls to be, 
I do the little that I can, 

And leave the rest to Thee. 

I have no cares, O blessed Will ! 

For all my cares are Thine ; 
I live in triumph, Lord ! for Thou 

Hast made Thy triumphs mine. 
(151) 



152 STRENGTH AND HEART FAIL. 

Ride on, ride on triumphantly, 
Thou glorious Will ! ride on ; 

Faith's pilgrim sons behind Thee take 
The road that Thou hast gone. 

He always wins who rides with God ; 

To him no chance is lost ; 
God's will is sweetest to him when 

It triumphs at his cost. 

Ill that He blesses is our good, 

And noblest good is ill ; 
And all is right that seems most wrong, 

It^ it be His sweet Will ! 

Faber. 



— Mi^i^cfiE^^^M 



"MY STRENGTH AND MY HEART 
FAILETH." 



IN weakness at Thy feet I lie ; 
Thine eye each pang hath seen ; 
Scarce can I lift my heart on high ; 
Yet, Lord, on Thee I lean ; — 



HEART AND STRENGTH FAIL. 1 53 

Lean on Thy sure, unfailing word, 

Thy gentle "It is I," 
For Thou, my ever-living Lord, 

Know'st what it is to die. 

Thou wilt be with me when I go ; — 

Thy life my life in death ; 
For, in the lowest depths, I know 

Thine arms are underneath. 

'Tis not the infant's feeble grasp 
Which holds the mother fast ; 

It is the mother's gentle clasp 
Around her darling cast. 

Just so Thy child would cling to Thee, 

Knowing Thy pity long : 
For feeble as my faith may be, 

Tlije hand I clasp is strong. 




FRIEND OF ALL. 



'RIEND of all who seek Thy favor, 
Us defend 
To the end — 
Be our utmost Saviour ! 

Us, who join on earth t' adore Thee, 
Guard and love. 
Till above 
Both appear before Thee ! 

Fix on Thee our whole affection — 
Love divine, 
Keep us Thine, 
Safe in Thy protection ! 

Christ, of all our conversation 
Be the scope — 
Lift us up 
To Thy full salvation ! 

Bring us every moment nearer ; 
Fairer rise 
In our eyes — 
Dearer still, and dearer ! 
(154) 



FRIEND OF ALL. 155 



Infinitely dear and precious, 
With Thy love 
From above 
Evermore refresh us ! 

Strengthened by the cordial blessing, 
Let us haste 
To the feast, 
Feast of joys unceasing ! 

Perfect let us walk before Thee — 
Walk in white 
To the sight 
Of Thy heavenly glory. 

Both with calm impatience press on 
To the prize — 
Scale the skies. 
Take entire possession — 

Drink of life's exhaustless river — 
Take of Thee 
Life's fair tree — 
Eat, and live forever! 

Charles Wesley. 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 



ALL in weakness, all in sorrow, 
O my God, I come once more, 
Lifting up the sad petition 

Thou hast often heard before. 
In the former days of darkness, 
In the time of need of yore. 

For a present help in trouble, 
Thou hast never ceased to be, 

Since at first a weeping sinner 
Fell before Thee trustingly ; 

And Thy voice is ever sounding, 
" O ye weary, come to me ! " 

Lord, Thou knowest all the weakness 
Of the creatures Thou hast made, 

For with mortal imperfection 

Thou didst once Thy glory shade; 

Thou hast loved, and Thou hast sorrowed, 
In the veil of flesh arrayed. 

Thus I fear not to approach Thee 
With my sorrow and my care ; 
Hear my mourning supplication, 

(156) 



OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 157 

Cast not out my humble prayer ! 
Lay not on a greater burden 

Than Thy feeble child can bear ! 

Earth has lost its best attractions, 
All the brightest stars are gone, — 

All is clouded now and cheerless, 
Where so long a glory shone; 

Where I walked with loved companions, 
I must wander now alone. 

All is dark on the horizon, 

Clouds returning after rain ; — 

Faith is languid, Hope is weary, 
And the questions rise again, 

"Doth the promise fail forever? 

Hast Thou made all men in vain?" 

O my God, rebuke the tempter ; 

Let not unbelief prevail ! 
Pray for me, Thy feeble servant. 

That my weak faith may not fail, 
Nor my hope let go her anchor. 

When the waves and storms assail ! 

All these passing, changing shadows, 
All these brief, bright joys below, — 

Let me grasp them not so closely. 
Nor desire, nor prize them so ! 

Nor endure this bitter ancruish 

When Thou bidd'st me let them go ! 



158 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. 

Redeemer, shall one perish 
Who has looked to Thee for aid? 

Let me see Thee, let me hear Thee, 
Through the gloomy midnight shade ; 

Let me hear Thy voice of comfort, 
" It is I ; be not afraid ! " 

For when feeling Thou art near me. 

All my loneliness is o'er. 
And the tempter's dark suggestions 

Can oppress my soul no more ; — 

1 shall dread the path no longer 
Where Thyself hast gone before. 

And the lights of earth all fading, 

I can gaze on tearlessly. 
When the glory that excelleth, 

When the light of life I see. 
Whom beside, in earth or heaven, 

Should my heart desire, but Thee? 

Jane BortJnvick. 





MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND." 



FATHER, I know that all my life 
Is portioned out for me ; 
And the changes that are sure to come, 

I do not fear to see ; 
But I ask Thee for a present mind 
Intent on pleasing Thee. 

I ask Thee for a thankful love. 
Through constant watching wise, 

To meet the glad with joyful smiles. 
And to wipe the weeping eyes ; 

And a heart at leisure from itself. 
To soothe and sympathize. 

I would not have the restless will 

That hurries to and fro. 
Seeking for some great thing to do, 

(159) 



l6o MT TIMES ARE IN THT HAND. 

Or secret thing to know ; 
I would be dealt with as a child, 
And guided where to go. 

"Wherever in the world I am, 

In whatsoe'er estate, 
I have a fellowship with hearts 

To keep and cultivate ; 
And a work of holy love to do 

For the Lord, on whom I wait. 

I ask Thee for the daily strength. 

To none that ask denied. 
And a mind to blend with outward life, 

While keeping at Thy side ; 
Content to fill a little space. 

If Thou be glorified. 

And if some things I do not ask 

In my cup of blessing be, 
I would have my spirit filled the more 

With grateful love to Thee — 
More careful than to serve Thee much, 

To please Thee perfectly. 

There are briers besetting every path, 

That call for patient care ; 
There is a crook in every lot. 

And a need for earnest prayer; 
But a lowly heart, that leans on Thee, 

Is happy everywhere. 



IN THE OTHER WORLD. l6l 

In a service that Thy love appoints, 

There are no bonds for me, 
For my secret heart is taught the truth 

That makes Thy children " free ; " 
And a life of self-renouncing love 

Is a life of liberty. 

A. L. Waring. 



IN THE OTHER WORLD 



IT lies around us like a cloud — 
A world we do not see ; 
Yet the sweet closing of an eye 
May bring us there to be. 

Its gentle breezes fan our cheek ; 

Amid our worldly cares 
Its gentle voices whisper love, 

And mingle with our prayers. 

Sweet hearts around us throb and beat, 
Sweet helping hands are stirred. 

And palpitates the veil between 
With breathings almost heard. 
II 



l62 IN THE OTHER WORLD. 

The silence — awful, sweet, and calm — 
They have no power to break ; 

For mortal words are not lor them 
To utter or partake. 

So thin, so soft, so sweet they glide, 
So near to press they seem, 

They seem to lull us to our rest, 
And melt into our dream. 

And in the hush of rest they bring 

'Tis easy now to see 
How lovely, and how sweet a pass 

The hour of death may be. 

To close the eye, and close the ear, 

Rapt in a trance of bliss. 
And gently dream in loving arms 

To swoon to that — from this ; 

Scarce knowing if we wake or sleep, 
Scarce asking where we are, 

To feel all evil sink away. 
All sorrow and all care. 

Sweet souls around us ! watch us still. 

Press nearer to our side. 
Into our thoughts, into our prayers, 

With gentle helpings glide. 



MAR AH. 163 

Let death between us be as nought ; 

A dried and vanished stream : 
Your joy be the reahty, 

Our suffering Hfe the dream. 

//. Beccher Stoive. 



— NO^^SE^^'^H 



MAR AH. 



GOD sends us bitter, that the sweet, 
By absence known, may sweeter 
prove ; 
As dark for light, as cold for heat, 
Brings greater love. 

God sends us bitter, as to show 

He can both sweet and bitter send ; 
Tnat both the might and love we know 
Of our great Friend. 

He sends us bitter, lest too gay 

We wreathe around our heads the rose. 
And count our right, what Heaven each day 
As alms bestows. 



164 MAR AH. 

God sends us bitter, lest we fail 

That bitterest grief aright to prize 
Which did for all the world avail 
In His own eyes. 

God sends us bitter, all our sins 

Embittering ; yet so kindly sends, 
The path that bitterness begins 
In sweetness ends. 

He sends us bitter, that heaven's sweet, 
Earth's bitter o'er, may sweeter taste ; 
As Canaan's ground to Israel's feet, 
For that great waste. 

Our passions murmur and rebel, 

But Faith cries out unto the Lord, 
And prayer by jDatience worketh well 
Its own reward. 

For, if our heart the lesson draws 

Aright, by bitter chastening taught. 
To keep His statutes and His laws, 
Even as we ought. 

He openeth our eyes to see 

(Eyes that our pride of heart had sealed) 
The sweetness of Life's heavenly Tree 
And f];;rief is healed. 



HE LEADS US ON. 165 

And, lo ! before us in the way 

We view the fountains and the pahns, 
And drink, and pitch our tents, and stay 
Singing sweet psahns. 

Charles Lawrence Ford. 



— M>@^^£D4^4H — 



HE LEADS US ON. 

HE leads us on. 
By paths we did not know ; 
Upward He leads us, though our steps be 

slow ; 
Though oft we faint and falter on the way, 
Though storms and darkness oft obscure the 
day. 
Yet when the clouds are gone, 
We know He leads us on. 

He leads us on 
Through all the unquiet years ; 
Past all our dreamland hopes, and doubts, 
and fears 



1 66 THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 

He guides our steps. Through all the tan- 
ked maze 
Of sin, of sorrow, and o'erclouded days 

We know His will is done ; 

And still He leads us on. 

And He, at last, 
After the weary strife — 
After the restless fever we call life — 
After the dreariness, the aching pain, 
The wayward struggles which have proved 
in vain. 

After our toils are past — 

Will give us rest at last. 



— m;^^^£ee^^=?h — 



THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 

Ul^ and away, like the dew of the morning, 
That soars from the earth to its home 
in the sun, — 
So let me steal aw ay,. gently and lovingly, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 



THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 167 

My name, and my place, and my tomb all 
forgotten. 
The brief race of time well and patiently 
run, 
So let me pass away, peacefully, silently, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

Gladly away from this toil would I hasten. 
Up to the crown that for me has been won, 

Unthought of by man in rewards or in praises, 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

Up and away, like the odors of sunset, 

That sweeten the twilight as darkness comes 
on ; 

So be my life, — a thing felt but not noticed, 
And I but remembered by what I have done. 

Yes, like the fragrance that wanders in fresh- 
ness. 
When the flowers it came from are closed 
up and gone. 
So would I be to this world's weary dwellers. 
Only remembered by what I have done. 

Needs there the praise of the love-written 
record. 
The name and the epitaph graved on the 
stone ? 



1 68 THE EVERLASTING MEMORIAL. 

The things we have lived for, — let them be 
our stor}' , 
We ourselves but remembered by what we 
have done. 

I need not be missed, if my life has been 
bearing 
(As its Summer and Autumn moved silent- 
ly on) 
The bloom, and the fruit, and the seed of its 
season ; 
I shall still be remembered by what I have 
done. 

I need not be missed, if another succeed me, 
To reap down those fields which in Spring 
I have sown ; 
He who ploughed and who sowed is not missed 
by the reaper. 
He is only remembered by what he has 
done. 

Not myself, but the truth that in life I have 
spoken. 
Not myself, but the seed that in life I have 
sown. 
Shall pass on to ages, — all about me forgot- 
ten, 
vSave the truth I have spoken, the things I 
have done. 



THE HOUR OF JOT. 169 

So let my living be, so be my dying ; 

So let my name lie, unblazoned, unknown ; 
Upraised and unmissed, I shall still be re- 
membered ; 

Yes, but remembered by what I have done. 

H. Boiiar. 



THE HOUR OF JOY. 



ALL things to mine eyes are bright ; 
Throbs my heart with deep delight 
Birds pour forth delicious notes, 
Fragrance on the air still floats. 
Earth and heaven seem full of gladness, 
A, id my soul forgets all sadness. 
Glows and quivers with the thrill 
Ot the joy that it doth fill. 

Swift-winged thought exults to range ; 
Fancy, as with magic change, 
Makes e'en ugliness look fair. 
Finds fresh beauty everywhere ; 
Life itself is one pure pleasure, 
Tasted without mete or measure ; 
Of whate'er could make her blest. 
My glad soul seems now possessed. 



lyo T" H E HOUR OF JOT. 

Upward, upward, strong and free, 
Borne on wings I seem to be ; 
Unconfined by eiirthly bars, 
Soars my spirit to the stars ! 
E'en beyond the starry regions. 
Filled with orbs in countless legions, 
Mounts she with untiring wings — 
Mounts, and evermore she sings. 

Whence this ecstasy divine? 
Why so rapt this soul of mine? 
O, my God, with warm desire 
Thou didst set my heart on fire ! ^ 
Then Thy love and goodness showing, 
And Thy light around me throwing. 
Thou didst give Thyself to me ; 
Thou hast made me glad in Thee. 

Thou art of all joy the crown ; 
Thou with joy canst sorrow drown ; 
Let me drink forevermore 
At the well-spring running o'er ; 
In Thy smile is sadness never, 
In Thy smile is gladness ever ; 
To Thy child, O Father, give 
Ever in Thy love to live. 

Ray Palmer. 



r-^^n 




THE HEART'S SONG 



IN the silent midnight watches, 
List — thy bosom-door ! 
How it knocketh, knocketh, knocketh, 

Knocketh evermore ! 
Say not 'tis thy pulse's beating ; 

'Tis thy heart of sin ; 
Tis thy Saviour knocks, and crieth. 
Rise and let Me in ! 



Death comes down with reckless footstep 

To the hall and hut ; 
Think you death will stand a-knocking 

Where the door is shut? 
Jesus waiteth, waiteth, waiteth ; 

But thy door is fast ! 
Grieved away, the Saviour goeth : 

Death breaks in at last. 
(171) 



172 THE EVENTIDE IS PAST. 

Then 'tis thine to stand, — entreating 

Christ to let thee in ; 
At the gate of heaven beating, 

WaiHng for thy sin. 
Nay, alas ! thou foolish virgin, 

Hast thou then forgot? 
Jesus waited long to know thee. 

But he knows thee not ! 

A. C. Coxe, D. D. 



— M5=^ — 



THE EVENTIDE IS PAST 

THE eventide is past; 
Past is life's sunset hour ; 
No more do tempests lower, 
No more are skies o'ercast. 

Thenceforth the Lord shall be 
Thine everlasting light ; 
Before His sunshine bright 

The mists of earth shall flee. 



^n 



WEARINESS AND REST. 

The vale of sorrow trod, 
The Shepherd ever nigh, 
The flock shall pasture high 

Upon the hills of God ! 



No more shall wane thy moon, 
Nor pale thy sun its light ; 
In day which knows no night, 

One everlasting noon. 

y. R. Macduff, D. D. 



WEARINESS AND REST 



SAVIOUR, I come to Thee, 
A weary child, with pain and care 
oppressed ; 
O, let me lean this aching, burdened heart 
Upon Thy loving breast ! 

The way is very dark ; 

I cannot see it. Lord, through these my 
tears ; 
Take Thou my hand, and draw me up to 
Thee, 
Through all the lonely years. 



I74 WEARINESS AND REST. 

I have no strength, dear Lord ; 

O let me lie where I can touch Thy feet, 
And gaze up from the dust into Thine eyes, 

That are so true and sweet. 

And come, O come to me ! 

And raise me to Thine arms, and teach me 
there 
The strange, deep secrets of Thy love, and 
bend 
To listen to my prayer. 

Speak to me soft and low : 

My spirit yearneth for one little word 
To cheer the still, sad silence of my life — 

One word from Thee, my Lord. 

Speak to me, O my God ! 

There are sweet voices falling on my ear, 
Long known, long loved; but in my inmost 
soul 

Their tones I cannot hear. 

But Thou wilt speak to me ; 

And, as the river falls into the sea. 
And sinks to sleep, so this my wearied heart 

Shall find its rest in Thee. 



"JESUS, LOVER OF MY SOUL." 

JESUS, lover of my soul, 
Let me to Thy bosom fly, 
While the nearer waters roll, 

While the tempest still is high ! 
Hide mfe, O my Saviour, hide, 

Till the storm of life is past : 
Safe into Thy haven guide — 
O, receive my soul at last ! 

Other refuge have I none — 

Hangs my helpless soul on Thee ; 
Leave, ah! leave me not alone — 

Still support and comfort me. 
All my trust on Thee is stayed. 

All my help from Thee I bring : 
Cover my defenceless head 

With the shadow of Thy wing. 

Thou, O Christ, art all I want — 

More than all in Thee I find ; 
Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, 

Heal the sick, and lead the bHnd. 
Just and holy is Thy name — 

I am all unrighteousness ; 
False and full of sin I am — 

Thou art full of truth and grace. 
(175) 



I ;6 rz: XJLL A R E G 1 S. 

Plenteous a'race with Thee is Ibund — 

Grace to cover all my sin ; 
Let the healini^ streams abound — 

o 

INIake and keep me pure within. 
Thou of life the fountain art — 

Freely let me take of Thee ; 
Spring Thou up within my heart — 

Rise to all eternity. 

Charles Wesley. 



VEXILLxV REGIS. 



THE royal banners forward go, 
The Cross shines forth in mystic glow ; 
Where He in flesh, our flesh Who made, 
Our sentence bore, our ransom paid. 

There whilst He hung, His sacred side 
By soldier's spear was opened wide, 
To cleanse us in the precious flood 
Of water mino^led witli His blood. 

Fulfilled is now what David told. 

In true prophetic song of old. 

How God the heathen's King should be. 

For God is rei£rninij from the tree. 



STAB AT MATER DOLOROSA. 177 

O tree of glory, tree most fair, 
Ordained those Holy Limbs to bear, 
How bright in purple robe it stood. 
The purple of a Saviour's blood I 

Upon its arms, like balance true. 
He weighed the price for sinners due, 
The price which none but He could pay, 
And spoiled the spoiler of His prey. 

Venantius Fortu)tatus. Trans, by Dr. Ncale. 

STABAT MATER DOLOROSA. 

"now there stood by the cross of JESUS HIS 
MOTHER." 

AT the cross her station keeping, 
Stood the mournful mother weeping. 
Where He hung, the dying Lord ; 
For her soul of joy bereaved. 
Bowed with anguish, deeply grieved. 
Felt the sharp and piercing sword. 

O, how sad and sore distressed 
Now was she, that mother blessed 

Of the sole-begotten One ; 
Deep the woe of her affliction 
When she saw the crucifixion 

Of her ever-glorious Son. 
12 



178 STABAT MATER DOLOROSA. 

Who, on Christ's dear mother gazing, 
Pierced by anguish so amazing, 

Born of woman, would not weep? 
Who, on Christ's dear mother thinking. 
Such a cup of sorrow drinking. 

Would not share her sorrows deep? 

For His people's sins chastised, 
She beheld her Son despis(^d. 

Scourged, and crowned with thorns 
entwined. 
Saw Him then from judgment taken, 
And in death by all forsaken, 

Till His Spirit He resigned. 

Jesus, may such deep devotion 
Stir in me the same emotion. 

Fount of love. Redeemer kind. 
That my heart, fresh ardor gaining. 
And a purer love attaining. 

May with Thee acceptance find. 

'Jacobus de Bcnedictis. 
Trans, by Rev. E. Caswell. 





JESU DULCIS MEMORIA 



JESUS ! The very thought is sweet ! 
In that dear name all heart-joys meet 
But O, than honey sweeter far 
The glimpses of His presence are. 

No word is sung more sweet than this, 
No sound is heard more full of bliss, 
No thought brings sweeter comfort nigh, 
Than Jesus, Son of God most high. 



Jesus ! the hope of souls forlorn, 
How good to them for sin that mourn ! 
To them that seek Thee, O, how kind ! 
But what art Thou to them that find ! 
(179) 



^O LONGINGS FOR LOVE DIVINE, 

No tongue of mortal can express, 
No pen can write the blessedness ; 
He only who hath proved it knows 
What bliss from love of Jesus flows. 

O Jesus, King of wondrous might ! 
O Victor, glorious from the fight ! 
Sweetness that may not be expressed, 
And altogether loveliest ! 

Abide with us, O Lord, to-day. 
Fulfil us with Thy grace, we pray ; 
And with Thine own true sweetness feed 
Our souls from sin and darkness freed. 

Bernard of Clairvaux. 

Trans, by Dr. Neale. 



LONGINGS FOR LOVE DIVINE. 

OLOVE divine ! how sweet thou art ! 
When shall I find mv willincj heart 
All taken up by thee? 
I thirst, I faint, I die to prove 
The greatness of redeeming love, 
The love of Christ to me ! 



LONGINGS FOR LOVE DIVINE. i8l 

Stronger His love than death or hell, 
Its riches are unsearchable ; 

The first-born sons of light 
Desire in vain its depth to see ; 
They cannot reach the mystery, 

The length, and breadth, and height. 

God only knows the love of God ; 
O that it now were shed abroad 

In this poor stony heart ! 
For love I sigh, for love I pine ; 
This only portion, Lord, be mine, 

Be mine this better part. 

Forever would I take my seat 
With Mary at the Master's feet ; 

Be this my happy choice ; 
My only care, delight, and bliss, 
My joy, my heaven on earth, be this, 

To hear the Bridegroom's voice. 

Thy only love do I require ; 
Nothing in earth beneath desire, 

Nothing in heaven above ; 
Let earth, and heaven, and all things go; 
Give me Thy only love to know. 

Give me Thy only love. 

Charles Wesley. 



JESUS, MEEK AND GENTLE 

JESUS, meek and gentle. 
Son of God most high, 
Pitying, loving Saviour, 
Hear Thy children's cry. 

Pardon our offences. 

Loose our captive chains, 

Break down every idol 
Which our soul detains. 

Give us holy freedom, 

Fill our hearts with love ; 

Draw us, holy Jesus ! 
To the realms above. 

Lead us on our journey, 

Be Thyself the way 
Through terrestrial darkness 

To celestial day. 

Jesus, meek and gentle. 
Son of God most high. 

Pitying, loving Saviour, 
Hear Thy children's cry. 

EeiK Geo. Hundcll Prynne^ 
(182) 



SAVIOUR, BLESSED SAVIOUR. 



SAVIOUR, blessed Saviour, 
Listen whilst we sing, 
Hearts and voices raising 

Praises to our Kinor. 
All we have we offer. 
All we hope to be. 
Body, soul, and spirit, 
All we yield to Thee. 

Nearer, ever nearer, 

Christ, we draw to Thee, 
Deep in adoration 

Bending low the knee : 
Thou for our redemption 

Cam'st on earth to die ; 
Thou, that we might follow, 

Hast gone up on high. 

Great and ever greater 
Are Thy mercies here, 

True and everlastinor . 
Are the glories there. 



184 SAVIOUR, BLESSED SAVIOUR. 

Where no pain, or sorrow, 
Toil, or care is known, 

Where the angel-legions 
Circle round Thy throne. 

Dark and ever darker 

Was the wintry past; 
Now a ray of gladness 

O'er our path is cast : 
Every day that passeth, 

Every hour that flies, 
Tells of love unfeigned, 

Love that never dies. 

Clearer still and clearer 

Dawns the light from heaven, 

In our sadness bringing 

■ News of sin forgiven : 

Life has lost its shadows. 
Pure the light within ; 

Thou hast shed Thy radiance 
On a world of sin. 

Brighter still and brighter 

Glows the western sun. 
Shedding all its gladness 

O'er our work that's done : 
Time will soon be over. 

Toil ajid sorrow past ; 
May we, blessed Saviour, 

Find a rest at last. 



SAVIOUR, BLESSED SAVIOUR. 185 

Onward, ever onward, 

Journeying o'er the road 
Worn by saints before us, 

Journeying on to God : 
Leaving all behind us, 

May we hasten on. 
Backward never looking. 

Till the prize is won. 

Bliss, all bliss excelling. 

When the ransomed soul 
Earthly toils forgetting. 

Finds its promised goal ; 
Where, in joys unheard of. 

Saints with angels sing, 
Never weary raising 

Praises to their King. 




LEAD THOU ME. 

" IN THE DAYTIME, ALSO, HE LED THEM WITH A 
CLOUD, AND ALL THE NIGHT THROUGH WITH THE 
LIGHT OF FIRE." 

LEAD, kindly Light, amid the encircHng 
gloom, 
Lead Thou me on ; 
The night is dark, and I am far from home ; 

Lead Thou me on. 
Keep Thou my feet ; I do not ask to see 
The distant scene ; one step enough for me. 

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou 

Shouldst lead me on ; 
I loved to choose and see my path ; but now 

Lead Thou me on. 
I loved the gairish day, and, spite of fears, 
Pride ruled my will : remember not past years. 

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still 

Will lead me on 
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till 

The night is gone. 
And with the morn those angel faces smile. 
Which I have loved long since, and lost a 
while. 

(i86) 



"AT EVE IT SHALL BE LIGHT.' 



OUR pathway oft is wet with tears, 
Our sky with clouds o'ercast, 
And worldly cares and worldly fears 

•Go with us to the last : 
Not to the last ! God's word hath said, 

Could we but read aright, 
O pilgrim ! lift in hope thy head ; 
At eve it shall be light ! 

Though earth-born shadows now may shroud 

Our toilsome path a while, 
God's blessed word can part each cloud. 

And bid the sunshine smile. 
If we but trust, in living faith, 

His love and power divine. 
Then, though our sun may set in death, 

His light shall round us shine. 

When tempest-clouds are dark on high. 

His bow of love and peace 
Shines beauteous in the vaulted sky, 

A pledge that storms shall cease. 
Then keep v/e on, wath hope unchilled. 

By faith, and not by sight, 
And we shall own His word, fulfilled, — 

At eve it shall be light. 

Bernard Barton. 

(1S7) 



WHEN GATHERING CLOUDS 



WHEN gathering clouds around Iview, 
And days are dark, and friends are few, 
On Him I lean, who, not in vain, 
Experienced every human pain ; 
He sees my wants, allays my fears, 
And counts and treasures up my tears. 

If aught should tempt my soul to stray 
From heavenly wisdom's narrow way, 
To fly the good I would pursue. 
Or do the sin I would not do, — 
Still He who felt temptation's power 
Shall guard me in that dangerous hour. 

If wounded love my bosom swell. 
Deceived by those I prized too well, 
He shall His pitying aid bestow 
Who felt on earth severer woe,^ 
At once betrayed, denied, or fled. 
By those who shared His daily bread. 

If vexinjj thouixhts within me rise, 
And, sore dismayed, my spirit dies, 
Still He who once vouchsafed to bear 
The sickening anguish of despair, 
(iSS) 



STILL WITH THEE. 189 

Shall sweetly soothe, shall gently dry 
The throbbing heart, the streaming ej^e. 

And, ah, when I have safely passed 
Through every conflict but the last. 
Still, still unchanging, w^atch beside 
My painful bed, — for Thou hast died ; 
Then point to realms of cloudless day, 
And wipe the latest tear away. 

Sir Robert Grant. 

— M5^ 



STILL WITH THEE. 



STILL, still with Thee, when purple morn- 
ing breaketh, 
When the bird waketh and the shadows 
flee; 
Fairer than morning, lovelier than the day- 
light. 
Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with 
Thee I 

Alone with Thee, amid the mystic shadows, 
The solemn husli of nature newly born ; 

Alone with Thee in breathless adoration, 
In the calm dew and freshness of the morn. 



190 



STILL WITH THEE 



As in the dawning o'er the waveless ocean 
The image of the morning star doth rest, 

So in this stillness Thou beholdest only 
Thine image in the waters of my breast ! 

Still, still with Thee ! as to each new-born 

morning 

A fresh and solemn splendor still is given. 

So doth this blessed consciousness, awaking. 

Breathe, each day, nearness unto Thee and 

heaven. 

When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to 
slumber. 
Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer ; 
Sweet the repose beneath the wings o'ershad- 

ing, 
But sweeter still to wake and find Thee 
there. 

So shall it be at last, in that bright morning. 
When the soul waketh and life's shadows 
flee; 

O, in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning. 

Shall rise the glorious thought, / am -with 

Thee, 

Harriet Beccher Stoive. 




MEMORIES. 



WHEN fall the evening shadows, long 
and deep, across the hill ; 
When all the air is fragrance, and all the 
breezes still ; 

When the summer's sun seems pausing above 

the mountain's brow. 
As if he left reluctantly a scene so lovely 

now ; 



Then I linger on the pathway, and I fondly 
gaze, and long. 

As if reading some old story those deep pur- 
ple clouds among ; 

Then Memory approaches, holding up her 

magic glass, 
Pointing to familiar figures, which across the 

surface pass. 

(19O 



192 



MEMORIES. 



And often do I question, as I view that phan- 
tom train, 

Whether most with joy or sadness I behold 
them thus agam. 

They are there, those scenes of beauty, where 
life's brightest hours have fled, 

And I haste, with dear companions, the old 
paths again to tread ; 

But, suddenly dissolving, all the loveliness is 

flown. 
And I find a thorny wilderness, where I must 

walk alone. 

Thou art there, so loved and honored, as in 

each former hour. 
When we read thine eye's deep meaning, when 

we heard thy words of power; 

When our souls, as willing captives, have 

sought to follow thine. 
Tracing the eternal footsteps of Might and 

Love Divine. 



But o'er that cherished image falls a veil of 

clouds and gloom. 
And beside a bier I tremble, or I weep above 

a tomb. 



MEMORIES 



19.5 



And ever will the question come, O jMcmory ! 

again, 
Whether in thy magic mirror there is most of 

bliss or pain? 

Would I not wish the brightness were for- 
ever hid from view, 

If but those hours of darkness could be all 
forgotten too? 

Then, weary and desponding, my spirit seeks 

to rise 
Away from earthly conflicts, from mortal 

smiles or sighs. 

I do not think the blessed ones with Jesus 

have forgot 
The changing joys and sorrows which have 

marked their earthly lot; 

But now, on Memory's record their eyes can 

calmly dwell ; 
They can see, what here they trusted — God 

hath done all things W€ll ; 

And vain regrets and longings are as old 

things passed away; 
No shadows dim the sunshine of that bright 

eternal day ! 



HE KNOWETH ALL 



THE twilight falls, the night is near, 
I fold my work away, 
And kneel to One who bends to hear 
The story of the day. 

The old, old story ; yet I kneel 

To tell it at Thy call ; 
And cares grow lighter as I feel 

That Jesus knows them all. 

Yes, all ! The morning and the night, 

The joy, the grief, the loss. 
The roughened path, the sunbeam bright, 

The hourly thorn and cross. 

Thou knowest all — I lean my head. 

My weary eyelids close ; 
Content and glad a while to tread 

This path, since Jesus knows ! 

And He has loved me ! All my heart 
With answering love is stirred, 

And every anguished pain and smart 
Finds healing in the Word. 
(194) 



REST. 



^9S 



So here I lay me down to rest, 

As nightly shadows fall, 
And lean, confiding, on His breast, 

Who knows and pities all ! 



REST 



I REST with Thee, Lord ! Whither should 
I go? 
I feel so blest within Thy home of love ! 
The blessings purchased by Thy pain and 
woe. 
To Thy poor child Thou sendest from 
above ; 
O, never let Thy grace depart from me; 
So shall I still abide, my Lord, with Thee. 

I rest with Thee ! Eternal life the prize 
Thou wilt bestow, when faith's good fight 
is won ; 
What can earth give but vain regrets and 
sighs. 
To the poor heart whose passing bliss is 
done? 



196 REST. 

For lasting joys I fleeting ones resign, 
Since Jesus calls me His, and He is mine. 

I rest with Thee ! No other place of rest 

Can now attract, no other portion please ; 
The soul, of heavenly treasure once pos- 
sessed. 
All earthly glory with indifference sees. 
Poor world, farewell ! thy splendors tempt no 

more — 
The power of grace I feel, and thine is o'er. 

I rest with Thee ! with Thee, whose won- 
drous love 
Descends to seek the lost, the fallen to 
raise. 
O, that my whole of future life might prove 
One hallelujah, one glad song of praise ! 
So shall I sing, as time's last moments flee, 
Now and forever, Lord, I rest with Thee. 




COME TO ME! 



WITH tearful eyes I look around ; 
Life seems a dark and stormy sea ; 
Yet 'midst the gloom I hear a sound, 
A heavenly whisper — Come to Me! 

It tells me of a place of rest ; 

It tells me where my soul may flee : 
O, to the weary, faint, oppressed, 

How sweet the bidding — -Come to Me! 

When the poor heart with anguish learns 
That earthly props resigned must be, 

And from each broken cistern turns, 
It hears the accents — Come to Me ! 

When against sin I strive in vain, 
And cannot from its yoke get free, 

Sinking beneath the heavy chain. 

The words arrest me — Come to Me! 

When nature shudders, loath to part 
From all I love, enjoy, and see ; 

When a faint chill steals o'er my heart, 
A sweet voice utters — Come to Me! 

(197) 



198 RESTING WHOLLY ON CHRIST. 

Come, for all else must fail and die ; 

Earth is no resting-place for thee ; 
Heavenward direct thy weeping eye ; 

I am thy portion — Come to Me ! • 

O voice of mercy, voice of love ! 

In conflict, grief, and agony. 
Support me, cheer me from above, 

And gently w^hisper — Come to Me ! 

Charlotte Elliott. 



RESTING WHOLLY ON CHRIST. 

I LAY my sins on Jesus, 
The spotless Lamb of God ; 
He bears them all, and frees us 

From the accursed load. 
I bring my guilt to Jesus, 

To wash my crimson stains 
White in His blood most precious. 
Till not a spot remains.. 

I lay my wants on Jesus ; 

All fulness dwells in Him ; 
He heals all my diseases. 

He doth my soul redeem. 



RESTING WHOLLY ON CUR 1ST. 199 

I lay my griefs on Jesus, 
My burdens and my cares ; 

He from them all releases, 
He all my sorrow shares. 

I rest my soul on Jesus, 

This weary soul of mine ; 
His right hand me embraces, 

I on His breast recline. 
I love the name of Jesus, 

Immanuel, Christ, the Lord; 
Like fragrance on the breezes 

His name abroad is poured. 

I long to be like Jesus, 

Meek, loving, lowly, mild; 
I long to be like Jesus, 

The Father's holy child. 
I long to be with Jesus 

Amid the heavenly throng. 
To sing with saints His praises, 

To learn the angels' song. 

H. Bonar. 



THE VOICE OF JESUS. 



I HEARD the voice of Jesus say, 
''Come unto me and rest: 
Lay down, thou weary one, lay down 

Thy head upon my breast." 
I came to Jesus as 1 was, 

Weary, and worn, and sad; 
I found in Him a resting-place, 
And He has made me glad. 

I heard the voice o{ Jesus say, 

"Behold, I freely give 
The living water; thirsty one, 

Stoop down, and drink and live." 
I came to Jesus, and I drank 

Of that life-giving stream ; 
My thirst was quenched, my soul revived. 

And now I live in Him. 

I heard the voice of Jesus say, 

" I am this dark world's light ; 
Look unto Me, thy morn shall rise. 

And all thy day be bright." 
I looked to Jesus, and I found 

In Him my Star, my Sun ; 
And in that light of life I'll walk. 

Till travelling days are done. 

H. Bonar, 

( 200 ) 




SUBMISSION. 



SINCE Ihy Father's arm sustains thee, 
Peaceful be. 
When a chastening hand restrains thee, 

It is He ! 
Know His love in full completeness, 
Feel the measure of thy weakness ; 
If He wound thy spirit sore, 
Trust Him more. 

Without murmur, uncomplaining. 

In His hand 
Leave whatever things thou canst not 

Understand. 
Though the world thy folly spurneth. 
From thy faith in pity turneth, 
Peace thy inmost soul shall fill. 

Lying still. 
(201) 



202 SUBMISSION. 

Like an infant, if thou thinkest 

Thou canst stand, 
Child-like, proudly pushing back 

The proffered hand, 
Courage soon is changed to fear, 
Strength doth feebleness appear ; 
In His love if thou abide, 

He will guide. 

Fearest sometimes that thy Father 

Hath forgot? 
Though the clouds around thee gather, 

Doubt Him not ! 
Always hath the daylight broken, 
Always hath He comfort spoken ; 
Better hath He been for years 

Than thy fears. 

Therefore, whatsoe'er betideth, 

Night or day. 
Know His love for thee provideth 

Good alway : 
Crown of sorrows gladly take, 
Grateful wear it for His sake. 
Sweetly bending to His will. 

Lying still. 

To His own thy Saviour giveth 

Daily strength ; 
To each troubled soul that liveth 

Peace at lencrth : 



THE CROSS. 203 

Weakest lambs have largest share 
Of the tender Shepherd's care. 
Ask Him not, then, "When, or how?" 
Only bow. 



— M>©^tE&%^^M 



THE CROSS 



I SAW the cross of Jesus 
When burdened with my sin ; 
I sought the cross of Jesus 

To give me peace within : 
I brought my sin to Jesus ; 

He cleansed it in His blood ; 
And in the cross of Jesus 
I found my peace with God. 

I love the cross of Jesus ; 

It tells me what I am — 
A vile and guilty creature, 

Saved only through the Lamb. 
No righteousness, no merit, 

No beauty can I plead ; 
Yet in the cross I glory. 

My title there I read. 



204 



I clasp the cross of Jesus 

In every trying hour ; 
My sure and certain refuge, 

My never-faihng tower. 
In every fear and conflict, 

I more than conqueror am ; 
Living I'm safe, or dying, 

Through Christ, the risen Lamb. 

Sweet is the cross of Jesus ! 

There let my weary heart 
Still rest in perfect peace, 

Till life itself depart. 
And then in strains of glory 

I'll sing Thy wondrous power. 
Where sin can never enter. 

And death is known no more. 

F. Whitfield. 





GOD KNOWS IT ALL. 

IN the dim recess of thy spirit's chamber, 
Is there some hidden grief thou mayst 
not tell? 
Let not thy heart forsake thee, but remember 
His pitying eye, who sees and knows it 
well, — 

God knows it all ! 

And art thou tossed on billows of temptation, 
And wouldst do good, but evil still prevails? 
O, think, amid the waves of tribulation, 
When earthly hope, when earthly refuge 
fails, 

God knows it all ! 

And dost thou sin, thy deed of shame con- 
cealing. 
In some dark spot no human eye can see — 
Then walk in pride, without one sign revealing 
The deep remorses that disquiet thee? 
God knows it all ! 
( 205 ) 



2o6 GOD KNOWS IT ALL. 

Art thou oppressed, and poor, and heavy- 
hearted, 
The heavens above thee in thick clouds 
arrayed. 
And well nigh crushed, no earthly strength 
imparted. 
No friendly voice to say, "Be not afraid"? 
God knows it all ! 

Art thou a mourner? Are thy tear-drops 
flowing 
For one so early lost to earth and thee? 
The depth of grief no human spirit knowing, 
Which moans in secret like the moaning 
sea, — 

God knows it all ! 

Dost thou look back upon a life of sinning? 

Forward, and tremble for thy future lot? 
There's One who sees the end from the be- 
ginning ; 
Thy tear of penitence is unforgot. 
God knows it all ! 

Then go to God ! Pour out your hearts be- 
fore Him ; 
There is no grief your Father cannot feel, — 
And let your grateful songs of praise adore 
Him — 
To save, forgive, and every wound to heal ! 
God knows it all ! 



UNDER THE CLOUD 



^-x-^s^Cft*^)--*^ 



UNDER the cloud ! but so was He 
Who suffered and died on Calvary : 
O, the weight of the cross He bore, 
And the scourge His sacred flesh that tore, 
And the cruel crown of thorns He wore ! 

Under the cloud ! but so were they, 
Heroes and martyrs passed away : 
O, the tortures of rack and flame, 
Hunger, weariness, scorn, and shame I 
O, the terrors without a name ! 

Under the cloud ! but so are all 
Daring to stand where others fall, 
Choosing, rather, to brave disgrace 
Than clasp the Wrong in a foul embrace — 
Keeping Honor, though losing Place ! 

Under the cloud ! O, Christ of God ! 
Martyrs who close in His steps have trod I 
Still on the Good the Evil preys ; 
Still, for us, in these latter days. 
The cruel thorns and the lighted blaze ! 
(207) 



2o8 SUJVSB7\ 

Under the cloud ! but let us trust ! 
Wrong is mighty, but God is just. 
O, Most Merciful I hear our prayer — 
Strengthen us what we must to bear, 
And the residue kindly spare ! 

Caroline A. Mason, 

SUNSET. 



THE earth in breathless silence waits 
The promise of Night's soft caress ; 
For Day hath closed the amber gates 
Behind him, and with regal grace. 
In robes of royal splendor dressed, 
Walks slowly down the glowing west. 

The vapory clouds dissolve in flecks, 
Like waifs borne upward by the breeze, 

And strew the purple heaven like wrecks 
Of phantom ships on shoreless seas. 

Which plunge and float as fitful gales 

Play wanton with their rifted sails. 

A filmy veil hangs lightly o'er 

The tranquil surface of the stream, 
Which gives the outline of the shore 



SC/iVSBT. 209 

The shadowy vagueness of a dream, 
Blending in soft obscurity 
The placid, deep, and bending sky. 

Weird, ghostly spectres moan along 
The darkening arches of the wood. 

And sudden bursts of jocund song 
Steal out amid the solitude. 

Borne onward with the ebb and flow 

Of winds that idly come and go. 

And down among the garden-beds, 
The languid blossoms, dew-besprent, 

Bow sleepily their shining heads • 
Beneath the arching firm.ament, 

As though its vast and starlit dome 

Was but a curtain for their home. 

Sweet summer eve, so clear and calm ! 

Bright sunset hues, so warm and fair ! 
Fresh falling dew and breath of balm, 

Diffused like incense through the air ! 
Deep sky, with bright stars studded o'er, 
What can I ask or wish for more? 

O, heart of mine ! from thee must come 
The answer which my lips deny. 

O, vacant places in my home ! 
O, loving voices hushed for aye ! 

I do not ask or wish — I know 

This balmy air, this sunset glow, 

14 



2IO COME UNTO ME. 

The slumberous voices of the night, 

The insect's hum, the wood-bird's strain, 

The cheery smile of morning light 
Can never gladden these again ; 

And, therefore, in my soul must be • 

A void earth cannot fill for me. 

Cynthia Henshaiv. 



— M> ^^3£ '^ € <H — 



"COME UNTO ME. 



"/'^OME unto me 1 " O, bidding sweet with 

V-^ sweeter promise wed ! 

This were enough, if this were all the loving 

Christ had said. 
When, by divine compassion moved, to His 

all-suffering breast 
He drew the tossed and troubled soul with, 

" I will give you rest ! " 

This w^ere enough ; for where are they, se- 
curely glad and strong. 

Who know no need, and unto whom no baffled 
hopes belong ; 



COME UNTO ME. 211 



Who are not tempted, overcome, nor sorrow- 
ing, nor oppressed, 

?Tor ever crave the something hid in that be- 
stowal, "rest"? 

"Come unto me," the Saviour calls; "all 

things shall yet be thine ; " 
And where is he that saith, "Enough already, 

Lord, is mine "? 
"Come unto me," He pleads again ; and who 

can answer back, 
" My hands are clean, my heart is pure ; what 

shall the righteous lack"? > 

"Come unto me!" O, who can say, "My 

yoke is easy now ; 
Beneath the heaviest cross I bear, behold, I 

never bow ! 
My thirst the w^orld doth satisfy ; my hunger 

earth can stay ; 
My mortal courage and my strength suffice 

me for my day "? 

Needy alike both weak and strong, the lowly 
and the great ; 

Jesus ! Thy tender bidding comes to all with 
equal weight ; 

Our summons, and our answer, too ; for ev- 
ery human breast, 

Througli sin, or grief, or wrong, or loss, cries 
out to heaven for " rest " ! 

Harriet McEive?! Kimball. 




O LORD! THOU KNOWEST." 



-x- •e^o'^^^'s-^ 



THOU knowest, Lord, the weariness and 
sorrow 
Of the sad heart that comes to Thee for 
rest ; 
Cares of to-day, and burdens for to-morrow, 
Blessings implored, and sins to be con- 
fessed, 
I come before Thee at Thy gracious word, 
And lay them at Thy feet — Thou knowest. 
Lord. 



Thou knowest all the past ; how long and 
blindly 
On the dark mountains the lost wanderer 
stra3^ed ; 
How the good Shepherd followed, and how 
kindly 
He bore it home, upon His shoulders laid, 

• (212) 



O LORD I THOU KNOW EST. 213 

And healed the bleeding wounds, and soothed 

the pain, 
And brought back life, and hope, and strength 



Thou knowest all the present : each tempta- 
tion, 

Each toilsome duty, each foreboding fear; 
All to myself assigned of tribulation, 

Or to belovdd ones, than self more dear ! 
All pensive memories, as I journey on. 
Longings for vanished smiles, and voices 



Thou knowest all the future : gleams of glad- 
ness. 
By stormy clouds too quickly overcast ; 
Hours of sweet fellowship, and parting sad- 
ness. 
And the dark river to be crossed at last : 
O ! what could confidence and hope afford 
To tread that path, but this — T/iotc knozucst. 
Lord I 

Thou knowest, not alone as God, all-know- 
ing 5 
As man, our mortal weakness Thou hast 

proved ; 
On earth, with purest sympathies o'erflowing, 
O Saviour ! Thou hast wept, and Thou 
hast loved ! 



214 THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 

And Love and Sorrow still to Thee may come, 
And find a hiding-place, a rest, a home. 

Therefore I come, Thy gentle call obeying. 
And lay my sins and sorrows at Thy feet. 

On everlasting strength my weakness staying, 
Clothed in Thy robe of righteousness com- 
plete ! 

Then rising and refreshed, I leave Thy throne. 

And follow on to know as I am known ! 



THE ELEVENTH HOUR 



FAINT, and worn, and aged. 
One stands knocking at a gate. 
Though no light shines in the casement. 

Knocking, though so late. 
It has struck eleven 
In the courts of heaven, 

Yet he still doth knock and w^ait. 

While no answer cometh 

From the heavenly hill, 
Blessed angels wonder 

At his earnest will. 



THE ELEVENTH HOUR. 21 

Hope and fear but quicken 
While the shadows thicken : 
He is knocking, knocking still. 

Grim the gate unopened 

Stands with bar and lock : 
Yet within the unseen Porter 

Hearkens to the knock. 
Doing and undoing, 
Faint, and yet pursuing, 

This man's feet are on the Rock. 

With a cry unceasing, 

Knocketh, prayeth he: 
"Lord, have mercy on me 

When I cry to Thee." 
With a knock unceasing, 
And a cry increasing : 

" O my Lord ! remember me." 



Still the Porter standeth, 

Love-constrained He standeth near, 
While the cry increaseth 

Of that love and fear : 
"Jesus, look upon me — 
Christ, hast Thou foregone me? — 

If I must, I perish here." 

Faint the knocking ceases, 

Faint the cry and call : 
Is he lost indeed forever, 

Shut without the wall? 



2l6 ALONE, 2^ET NOT ALONE. 

Mighty Arms surround him, 
Arms that sought and found him, 

Held, withheld, and bore through all. 

O, celestial mansion ! 

Open wide the door : 
Crown and robes of whiteness, 

Stone inscribed before, 
Flocking angels bear them. 
Stretch thy hand and wear them ; 

Sit thou down forevermore. 



"ALONE, YET NOT ALONE. 



WHEN no kind earthly friend is near, 
With gentle words my heart to cheer, 
Still am I with my Saviour dear : 
"Alone, yet not iilone." 

Though no loved forms my path attend. 
With tender looks o'er me to bend. 
Yet am I with my unseen Friend : 
"Alone, yet not alone." 



ALONE, TET NOT ALONE. 217 

When sorely racked with pain and grief, 
Here I can find a sure relief; 
And I rejoice in the belief: 

"Alone, yet not alone." 

'Tis on His strength that I rely, 
And doubts and fears at once defy, 
So happy, so content am I, 

"Alone, yet not alone." 

E'en when with friends my lot is cast. 
And words of love are flowincr fast. 
Still am I, when those hours are past, 
"Alone, 3'et not alone." 

If all my earthly friends remove, 
My fondest wishes empty prove. 
Still am I with my Saviour's love 
"Alone, yet not alone." 

Whate'er may now to me betide, 
I have a place wherein to hide 
By faith; 'tis e'en at His blest side: 
"Alone, yet not alone." 




WE STOOD BESIDE THE RIVER. 

WE stood beside the river, 
Whence all our souls must go, 
Bearing a loved one in our arms, 
Our hearts repeating the alarms 

That came across the river ; 
And saw the sun decline in mist, 
That rose until her brow it kissed, 
And left it cold as snow. 

Watching beside the river, 
With every ebb and flow, 
Fond hopes within our hearts would spring, 
Until another warning ring 
Came o'er the fearful river. 
(218) 



IVB STOOD BESIDE THE RIVER. 219 

We saw the flush, the brightness fade, 
The loving lips look grieved and sad. 
The white hands whiter grow. 

Watching by the river. 

With anguish none can tell. 
And trembling hearts and hands, we strove 
To save the darling of our love 

From going down the river ! 
O, powerless, but to weep and pray, 
And grieve for one, who, far away, 

Had said his last farewell ! 

Weeping by the river. 

There came a blessed time, 
A solemn calm spread all around. 
Making it seem like holy ground. 

Beside the silent river ! 
The world receding from our eyes, 
Caught gleams of that dear land which lies 

In Canaan's happy clime ! 

And there, beside the river. 

Came lessons strange and sweet. 
The perfect work of patience done. 
The warfare finished, victory won 

With weak hands by the river! 
The child-like fear, the clinging love. 
The darkness brightened from above, 

The peace at Jesus' feet I 



2 20 IVE STOOD BBS IBB THB RIVBR. 

Waiting by the river, 

Through mingled night and day, 
Sweet memories round our hearts we bring, 
Of Jesus' love and Heaven we sing, 

To soothe her by the river ; 
And wept for one whose heart would break, 
Be pitiful for Jesus' sake. 

Father in heaven, we pray ! 

Standing by the river, 

We closed the weary eyes. 
In Jesus' arms we laid her down, 
A lovely jewel for His crown. 

He bore her through the river. 
And clothed her in a robe so white, 
Too beautiful for mortal sight. 

And took her to the skies ! 





ONWARD. 

TRAVELLER, faint not on the road. 
Droop not in the parching sun ; 
Onward, onward with thy load, 

Till the night be won. 
Swerve not, though thy bleeding feet 
Fain the narrow path would leave ; 
From the burden and the heat 
Thou shalt rest at eve. 

'Midst a world that round thee fades, 

Brightening stars and twilight life ; 
When a sacred calm pervades 

All that now is strife ; 
Rich the joy to be revealed 

In that hour from labor free. 
Bright the splendors that shall yield 

Happiness to thee. 

(221 ) 



222 ONWARD. 

Master of a holy charm, 

Yet be patient on thy way ; 
Use the spell, and check the harm 

That would lead astray. 
From the petty cares that teem, 

Turn thee, with prophetic eye. 
To the glory of that dream 

Which shall never die. 

By the mystery of thy trust. 

By the grandeur of that hour 
When mortality and dust 

Clothed eternal power ; 
By the purple robe of shame, 

The mockery, and the insulting rod, 
By the anguish that o'ercame 

The incarnate God: 

Faint not ! fail not ! Be thou strong, 

Cast away distrust and fear ; 
Though the weary day seems long, 

Yet the night is near. 
Friends and' kindred wait beyond — 

They who passed the trial pure : 
Traveller, by that holy bond. 

Shrink not to endure. 



HEAVEN . 



O HEAVEN is nearer than mortals 
^ think, 

When they look with a trembling dread 
At the misty future that stretches on 
From the silent home of the dead. 

'Tis no lone isle on a boundless main, 

No brilliant but distant shore. 
Where the lovely ones who are called away 

Must go to return no more. 

No, heaven is near us ; the mighty veil 

Of mortality blinds the eye, 
That we cannot see the angel bands 

On the shores of eternity. 

The eye that shuts in a dying hour 

Will open the next in bliss ; 
The welcome will sound in the heavenly 
world 

Ere the farewell is hushed in this. 

We pass from the clasp of mourning friends 
To the arms of the loved and lost. 

And those smiling faces will greet us there 

Wliich on earth we have valued most. 

(223) 



224 



HE A VEN. 



Yet oft in the hours of holy thought 

To the thirsting soul is given 
That power to pierce through the mist of 
sense. 

To the beauteous scenes of heaven. 

Then very near seem its pearly gates, 

And sweetly its harpings fall, 
Till the soul is restless to soar away. 

And longs for the angel's call. 

I know when the silver cord is loosed. 

When the veil is rent away. 
Not long and dark shall the passage be 

To the realms of endless day 




STRENGTH ACCORDING TO THY 
DAY. 



WAIT, my soul, upon the Lord ; 
To His gracious promise flee, 
Laying hold upon His word, — 

"As thy day, thy strength shall be.'* 

If the sorrows of thy case 

Seem peculiar still to thee, 
God has promised needful grace, — 

"As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

Days of trial, days of grief. 
In succession thou mayst see ; 

This is still thy sweet relief, — 

"As thy day, thy strength shall be." 

Rock of Ages, I'm secure, 

With Thy promise full and free. 

Faithful, positive, and sure, — 

"As thy day, thy strength shall be." 
15 (225) 



A LITTLE WHILE. 

A LITTLE while, and every fear 
That o'er the perfect day 
FHngs shadows dark and drear, 

Shall pass like mist away. 
The secret tear, the anxious sigh, 

Shall pass into a smile ; 
Time changes to eternity ; 
We only wait a little while. 

A little while, and every charm 

That steals away the heart, 
And earthly joys that warm, 

And lure us from our part. 
Shall cease our heavenly views to dim ; 

The world shall not beguile 
Our ever-faithful thoughts from Him 

Who bade us wait a little while. 

A little while, and all around. 

The earth, and sea, and sky, 
The sunny light and sound 

Of nature's minstrelsy. 
Shall be as they had never been ; 

And we, so weak and vile. 
Be creatures of a brighter scene ; 

We only v/ait a little while. 

Grevillc. 
(226) 



SONG OF THE SILENT LAND. 

INTO the Silent Land ! 
Ah, who shall lead us thither? 
Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, 
And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand : 
Who leads us with a gentle hand 
Thither, O thither. 
Into the Silent Land? 

Into the Silent Land ! 
To you, ye boundless regions 
Of all perfection, tender morning visions 
Of beauteous souls, the Future's pledge and 

band ! 
Who in life's battle firm doth stand 
Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms 

Into the Silent Land ! 

O Land ! O Land ! 
For all the broken-hearted. 
The mildest herald by our fate allotted 
Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand, 
To lead us with a gentle hand 
Into the land of the great departed. 

Into the Silent Land ! 

From the Gerniati of Von Salis. 

Trans, by Henry W. Longfellozv. 
(227) 



THE NEW JERUSALEM, 

OR, 

THE SOUL'S BREATHING AFTER HER HEAV- 
ENLY COUNTRY.* 

" Since Christ's fair truth needs no man's art, 
Take this rude song in better part." 

O MOTHER dear, Jerusalem ! 
When shall I come to thee, 
When shall my sorrows have an end — 

Thy joys when shall I see? 
O, happy harbor of God's saints ! 

O, sweet and pleasant soil! 
In thee no sorrows can be found — 
No grief, no care, no toil. 

* This song, it is believed, is the oldest of all the songs 
of the Christian Church. It is, by most hjrrinologists, 
attributed to St. Gregory, while some trace portions 
of it to St. Augustine. But all agree that it was writ- 
ten by some of the. Fathers of the Church, the immediate 
successors of the apostles. The translation which we 
have used is commonly attributed to David Dickson, a 
Scotch divine of the early part of the seventeenth cen- 
tury. It is probable that it was translated at a much 
earlier period, as there exists in the British Museum a 
manuscript copy of a version resembling Dickson's, but 
bearing proofs of greater age. Want of space prevents 
the editor from inserting the entire hymn, but he believes 
the above portion will most interest Christians of the 
present day, 

(228) 



THE NEW JERUSALEM. 229 

In thee no sickness is at all, 

No hurt, nor any sore ; 
There is no death, nor ugly sight, 

But life forevermore. 
No dimming cloud o'ershadows thee. 

No cloud, nor darksome night. 
But every soul shines as the sun — 

For God Himself gives light. 

There lust and lucre cannot dwell, 

There envy bears no sway ; 
There is no hunger, thirst, or heat. 

But pleasure every way. 
Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 

Would God I were in thee ! 
O that my sorrows had an end. 

Thy joys that I might see ! 

No pangs, no pains, no grieving grief, 

No woful night is there ; 
No sigh, no sob, no cry is heard — 

No well-away, no fear. 
Jerusalem the city is 

Of God our King alone ; 
The Lamb of God, the light thereof. 

Sits there upon His throne. 

O God ! that I Jerusalem 

With speed may go behold ! 
For why? the pleasures there abound 

Which cannot here be told. 



230 THE NEW JERUSALEM. 

Thy turrets and' thy pinnacles 

With carbuncles do shine — 
With jasper, pearl, and chrysolite, 

Surpassing, pure, and fine. 

O, my sweet home, Jerusalem ! 

Thy joys when shall I see — 
The King sitting upon His throne, 

And thy felicity? 
Thy vineyards and thy orchards are, 

So wonderfully rare. 
And furnished with all kinds of fruit. 

Most beautifully fair. 

Thy gardens and thy goodly walks 

Continually are green ; 
There grow such sweet and pleasant flowers 

As no where else are seen. 
There cinnamon and sugar grow, 

There nard and balm abound ; 
No tongue can tell, no heart can think. 

The pleasures there are found. 

Jerusalem ! Jerusalem ! 

Thy joys fain would I see ; 
Come quickly, Lord, and end my grief, 

And take me home to Thee ; 
O ! print Thy name upon my forehead. 

And take me hence away. 
That I may dwell with Thee in bliss. 

And sing Thy praises aye. 



THE NEW JERUSALEM. 231 

Jerusalem, thrice happy seat . 

Jehovah's throne on high ! 
O sacred city, queen and wife 

Of Christ eternally ! 

comely queen, with glory clad. 
With honor, and degree, 

All fair art thou, exceeding bright — 
No spot there is in thee ! 

1 long to see Jerusalem, 
The comfort of us all ; 

For thou art fair and beautiful — 

None ill can thee befall. 
In thee, Jerusalem, I say, 

No darkness dare appear — 
No night, no shade, no winter foul — 

No time doth alter there. 

There love and charity do reign, 

And Christ is All in all. 
Whom they most perfectly behold 

In joy celestial. 
They love, they praise — they praise, they 
love ; 

They " Holy, holy " cry ; 
They neither toil, nor faint, nor end. 

But laud continually. 

Lord, take away my misery, 

That then I may behold 
With Thee, in Thy Jerusalem, 

What here cannot be told ; 



232 THE NEW JERUSALEM. 

And so in Zion see my King, 
My love, my Lord, my all — 

Where now as in a glass I see, 
There face to face I shall. 

Yet search me. Lord, and find me out! 

Fetch me Thy fold. unto. 
That all Thy angels may rejoice, 

While all Thy will I do. 
O mother dear ! Jerusalem ! 

When shall I come to thee? 
When shall my sorrows have an end? 

Thy joys when shall I see? 

Yet once again, I pray Thee, Lord, 

To quit me from all strife. 
That to Thy hill I may attain. 

And dwell there all my life — 
With cherubims, and seraphims. 

And holy souls of men. 
To sing Thy praise, O God of hosts ! 

Forever and amen. 

Saint Gregory. 





EVENTIDE PRAYER. 

AT even, ere the sun was set, 
The sick, O Lord, around Thee la}' 
O, in what divers pains they met ! 
O, with what joy they went away ! 

Once more 'tis eventide, and we 

Oppressed with various ills draw near: 

What if Thy form we cannot see? 

We know and feel that Thou art here. 

O Saviour Christ, our woes dispel ; 

For some are sick, and some are sad. 
And some have never loved Thee well. 

And some have lost the love they had ; 

And some have found the world is vain. 
Yet from the world they break not free ; 

And some have friends who give them pain 
Yet have not sought a friend in Thee ; 
( 233 ) 



234 EVENTIDE PRATER. 

And none, O Lord, have perfect rest, 
For none are wholly free from sin ; 

And they, who fain would serve Thee best, 
Are conscious most of wrong within. 

O Saviour Christ, Thou too art Man ; 

Thou hast been troubled, tempted, tried ; 
Thy kind but searching glance can scan 

The very wounds that shame would hide. 

Thy touch has still its ancient power ; 

No word from Thee can fruitless fall ; 
Hear in this solemn evening hour, 

And in Thy merc}^ heal us all. 




INDEX TO FIRST LINES 



A. 



Abide with me ! Fast falls the eventide. 

A fresh, bewildering sweetness. 

After labor sweet is rest. 

Again, as evening's shadow falls. . 

A little while, and everj fear. 

All can remember dark, gloomy days. 

All in weakness, all in sorrow. . 

All things to mine eyes are bright. 

Art thou weary.? art thou languid. 

As those that watch for the day. . 

At even, ere the sun was set. 

At the cross her station keeping. . 



PAGE 

. 40 
130 

• 54 

112 

. 226 

35 

. 156 

169 

. 78 

64 

. 233 
177 



B. 



Behold the western evening light 19 

Between the here and the hereafter. . . . 80 

Beyond these chilling winds and gloomy skies. . 96 

Breast the wave. Christian, when it is strongest. . 124 



c. 



Come, Jesus, with the coming night. 
Cometh sunshine after rain. . 
" Come unto me ! " O, bidding sweet. 
Could we but know. 

( 235 ) 



95 

89 

210 

117 



236 INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 



E. 

Earth's day is neither dark nor bright. . . .26 
Evening shades fall fast around me. ... 42 

Every day has its dawn 55 



Faint, and M^orn, and aged. 214 

Father, I knovir that all my life 159 

Friend of all who seek Thy favor. . . . . 154 



G. 

God sends vis bitter, that the sweet. ... . . 163 

H. 

He leads us on. . . . . . . . . 165 

Hope of those that have no other. . . . 109 



I. 



I cannot always trace the way. 134 

I do not ask, O Lord, that life may be. • • • 33 

I heard the voice of Jesus say. ..... 200 

I journey through a desert drear and wild. . . 75 
I know not if the dark or bright. . . . .116 

I lay my sins on Jesus. ...... 198 

I love my God, but with no love of mine. . . 106 

I love Thee, O my God ! but not. .... 23 

I'm kneeling at the threshold, weai-y. faint, and sore. 43 

In the cross of Christ I glorj' 123 



INDEX TO F/RS7' LINES. 



237 



In the dim recess of thy spirit's chamber. 
In the mid silence of the voiceless night. . 
In the silent midnight watches. 
Into a desolate land. ..... 

Into the silent land. ..... 

In weakness at Thy feet I lie. 

I rest with Thee, Lord ! Whither should I go. 

I saw the cross of Jesus. .... 

I see them far away. ..... 

Is this the way, my Father.? 'Tis, my child. 
It lies around us like a cloud. 
It was a time of sadness, and my heart. . 
I worship Thee, sweet Will of God. 



205 
118 
171 

105 

227 

152 
195 
203 

132 
no 
161 

29 
151 



;• 



Jesus, Lover of my soul. 
Jesus, meek and gentle. . 
Jesus, my Saviour, look on me. . 
Jesus ! the very thought is sweet. 
Jesu ! the very thought of Thee. 



• 175 
182 

. 138 
179 

. 27 



K. 



Knocking, knocking, ever knocking. 



125 



Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom. . 186 

Leaning on Thee, my Guide and Friend. . . 139 

Leave me not now, while still the shade is creeping. 148 

Long did I toil, and knew no earthly rest. . . 142 

Love, in all its depth and height 91 

Lord ! I hear of showers of blessings. . . • 5^ 



238 INDEX TO FIRST LINES, 



M. 



Mj God, I thank Thee, who hast made. 
Mv God, my Father, while I stray. 
My God, whose gracious pity I may claim. 
My spirit longeth for Thee. 



97 
119 

73 
46 



N. 



Nearer, my God, to Thee. . 

Never hasting, never resting. 

No bird-song floated down the hill. . 

No sunset closed the dim, gray day. 

Nothing but leaves ; the spirit grieves. 

Nothing resting in its own completeness. 



45 
66 

15 

24 

88 

144 



O. 



O day most calm, most bright. . 

Of all the thoughts of God that are. 

O ! heaven is nearer than mortals think. 

O holy Saviour! Friend unseen. . 

O Love Divine, how sweet thou art. . 

O Love Divine ! that stooped to share. . 

O mother dear, Jerusalem. . 

One by one the sands are flowing. . 

Only waiting till the shadows. . 

O unsleeping! ever keeping. . . . . 

Our pathway oft is wet with tears. 

Over Kedron Jesus treadeth. . . . . 

O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud. 

O, years gone down into the past. . 



82 
102 
223 

135 
180 

137 

228 
61 

17 
127 
187 
58 
36 
71 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 239 

R. 

Resting on the Rock of Ages. . ... . . 145 

S. 

Saviour, blessed Saviour. 183 

Saviour, I come to Thee. . . . . '173 

Since thy Father's arm sustains thee . . . 201 

Sometimes I catch sweet glimpses of His face. . 69 

Still, still with Thee, when purple morning breaketh. 1S9 
Sun of my soul ! Thou Saviour dear. . . .28 

Sweet is the solace of Thy love 76 

Sweet was your converse by the way. . . .48 



The child leans on its parent's breast. 

The day, O Lord, is spent. .... 

The earth in breathless silence waits. 

The eventide is past 

There's a land of peerless beauty. 

The royal banners forward go. . . . 

The seas of thought are deep and wide. 

The shadow of the Rock. .... 

The sound of weeping is silenced. 

The time for toil is past, and night is come. 

The twilight falls, the night is near. . 

The way is dark, my Father! Cloud on cloud. 

The way is long and dreary. . . . . 

The way seems long, dear Leader, and my feet. 

Thou, blessed Son of God. . . . . 

Thou Infinitely Merciful. .... 

Thou knowest. Lord, the weariness and sorrow. 

Th}' way, not mine, O Lord 

Tossing in a dreamy sleep. .... 

Traveller, faint not on the road. 

Two hands upon the breast. .... 



149 

68 

208 

172 

113 

176 

93 

99 

63 

20 

194 

85 

115 

121 

150 
52 
212 
104 
107 
221 
47 



240 



INDEX TO FIRST LINES. 



U. 



Under the cloud ! but so was He. 

Up and away, like the dew of the morning. 



307 
166 



w. 



Wait, my soul, upon the Lord. 

We may not climb the heavenly steeps. 

We stood beside the river. 

When fall the evening shadows. 

When gathering clouds around I view. 

When I behold the stars of night. 

When my heart is sore within. 

When Nature tries her finest touch. . 

When no kind earthly friend is near. 

When our aged sight is fading. . 

When winds are raging o'er the upper ocean 

With tearful eyes I look around. 



225 
III 
218 
191 

188 
22 
60 

49 
216 

14 
141 
197 







I ,^*-^ 



